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Book online Ā«I Still Hate You Marie Skye (bill gates books to read .TXT) šŸ“–Ā». Author Marie Skye



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invented the ā€˜Karenā€™ cut before Karenā€™s could even Karen.

We watched as Barb made a dramatic show of making sure everyone and anything could see her ring before finally looking our way. ā€œGirls!ā€ She held up her right hand and wiggled her fingers, using her other hand to point to her ring finger as if all of us were completely braindead and couldnā€™t figure that shit out for ourselves. ā€œCan you believe it? I have been waiting for this day for so long.ā€

ā€œDidnā€™t you have at least two other days with your other two marriages?ā€ I didnā€™t miss the side-eye from Barb. Itā€™s not that I hated herā€”hate is such a strong word. Itā€™s more like if she was missing, I surely wouldnā€™t link arms with a bunch of random people and join the search party. The mosquitos are crazy this time of year.

ā€œWell, they werenā€™t the ones, clearly.ā€ We all stood to board. Twenty minutes later, my eyes were shut to enjoy this four-hour flight. My eyes popped open as my brain just now decided to catch up with our previous conversation. Oh my God, what if Felix falls in love with me? I somehow tormented myself with the idea, irritated that Claire had the audacity to put that in my head. I was still thinking about it, but tried to relax when I put my earphones in. It didnā€™t last long before Claire jabbed me in the ribs. ā€œHey, back there in row twenty-three.ā€

ā€œWill you cut it out,ā€ I whispered-yelled.

ā€œPerrie.ā€ My eyes shot back open as I glanced at Claire. She was scrolling through her phone. ā€œThere are a few on this flight. Join the mile-high club.ā€ I ignored her and closed my eyes again.

ā€œIs it clichĆ© to have the bachelorette party in Vegas?ā€

Does having oneā€™s eyes closed not mean shit to people anymore? I looked up at Barb who was not only slurring her words but was practically leaning over the seat to talk to us. Weā€™ve been in the air for less than an hour and sheā€™s already on her third mimosa. We werenā€™t even in Vegas yet, and it was just after ten in the morning. But, even more so, why the hell did I agree to this?

ā€œNot clichĆ©, per se,ā€ I started to answer her but it didnā€™t matter, she was too busy flipping through her germ-filled magazine. Instead, I put my earphones back in and tried to get some rest before this ridiculous weekend started.

2

Perrie

I couldnā€™t be more thrilled at the fact that we all were walking around Vegas looking like a bunch of penises threw up on us.

ā€œHeā€™s the one. Heā€™s just the one. You know when you know. Heā€™s the one.ā€ I rolled my eyes at Barb who has said that same sentence to anyone who bothered to even try to care to listen.

ā€œYeah, Barb. Totally the one. If not him, then definitely the one after him.ā€ I didnā€™t even bother mumbling that last part, but since she was drunk, it didnā€™t matter what I said, she wouldnā€™t remember any of this anyway. I have never been happier that she had the attention span of a flea.

After dinner, I convinced everyone to dress in normal attire for once as we walked around the casino floor. After a while, I took my phone out and pulled up the Sextee app Claire had been talking about nonstop. It wouldnā€™t hurt to look, would it? Besides, donā€™t they say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? I turned on the tracker and the screen immediately lit up, showing who was nearby. I couldnā€™t believe it. It was like the movie WarGames when the screens lit up showing all the airstrikes.

I swiped through each oneā€¦

Noā€¦

Noā€¦

Noā€¦

Are you kidding me? He literally has a picture of him with his wife and kids. I think the fuck not.

Noā€¦

Maybeā€¦

Noā€¦

Noā€¦

ā€œThat one looks good.ā€ I jumped at the voice behind me before turning my phone over.

ā€œDo you mind?ā€

Claire scowled as if my wanting privacy was purely unreasonable. ā€œItā€™s sex, itā€™s not like youā€™re marrying the guy. Just pick one and get it over with.ā€

I looked around the room once more. There were at least five guys for my picking right now if I wanted to. I surveyed the room and stopped when my eyes locked with the man across the room. It wasnā€™t the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous. It was the fact that I knew himā€”as in his type. Heā€™s that guy thatā€™s here on a business trip, making sure to look for his one-night stand, when his homelife consisted of a wife, two-point-two kids, and a Labrador. No thank you, keep looking elsewhere, you cheating dickslut.

He slowly smirked and I slowly turned my gaze away. I knew that smirk. He was known for that smirk. That was also the smirk that had any sane woman wanting to throw their panties.

Itā€™s a good thing I wasnā€™t sane.

For the next two hours, I smiled when I was supposed to, and laughed when I was supposed to. Hell, I even flirted since the free drinks kept coming. After a while, I wandered on my own and observed the gamblers and basically tried not to be bored out of my damn mind.

ā€œYouā€™re welcome.ā€

I jumped at the deep voice behind me, and there he was, standing way too close. I shook my head as I tried to snap out of it. ā€œFor what?ā€

He nodded to the drink in my hand. I looked at it. ā€œOh, well, I hate it.ā€ That was purely a lie. He and I both knew a Ramos Gin Fuzz is my all-time favorite drink. I placed it on the serving tray of the waitress passing by.

ā€œJust like you still hate me?ā€ I ignored him as I tried to feign some kind of interest in the eighty-year-old woman with an oxygen machine tank by her side, and a cigarette in her mouth as she pulled the lever for the slot machine. ā€œYouā€™re still mad?ā€ I didnā€™t answer him

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