One clicks her tongue. “I wanted to see if the rumors were true.”
The blonde who spoke first scoffs. “If he pulled his head out of a liquor bottle we could have.”
The brunette beside her whacks her shoulder. “Cut him some slack! You know exactly why he’s drinking.”
I should move, make a sound, perhaps kick one of the many red solo cups, but I’m far too curious. My mom used to call me Big Ears when I was little because I loved eavesdropping on other people’s conversations.It’s not one of the best personality traits I have.
“It’s been over a year, Chelsea. He needs to get over it.”
Chelsea, the brunette, gasps. “You did not just say that!”
Well, at least one seems to possess a hint of empathy.
As they bicker, I decide I’ve had enough. I have work to do, and I don’t care if he wants to sleep with these women or not, I just quite frankly don’t want their boobs in my face while I’m cleaning up their mess from last night.
As I take a step closer, I see what has their heads bent together. The blonde holds her phone between the pair, swiping through images they’ve taken of whom I presume is Grayson, unconscious and naked.
All my patience flies out the door.
Before they realize I’m behind them, I snatch the phone out of their hands.
Grayson didn’t have his agent send me a fifty-page document of a non-disclosure agreement for fun. The man clearly appreciates his privacy, and even if he didn’t, it’s wrong to take such vulnerable photos of someone without their consent.
“Hey!” the blonde screams.
Holding the phone out of reach I let the anger simmering in my veins show in my gaze. “I suggest you find your clothes and walk out that door before I call the police.”
“For what?” the blonde growls, pushing her breasts up as she folds her arms beneath them.
I narrow my eyes.She can’t be serious…
Cocking her head to the side, she lifts them slightly higher.
Oh, she’s serious right now.
“Your fake implants might work on men but I’m unfortunately not a lesbian and don’t possess a dick,” I deadpan, choosing to turn to the one with a sliver of empathy. “Get your clothes and leave.”
“Come on, Sarah.” Chelsea wraps her hand around the blonde’s arm whose jaw is practically unhinged in shock.
Chelsea is trying to pull her friend toward the bedrooms when she snaps out of her stupor. “I want my phone back!”
I give her my sweetest smile. “You’ll have it back if I find you haven’t already sent the images.”
The blonde’s eyes narrow into thin slits as her friend all but drags her away.
I don’t waste a second. The moment they round the corner and make their way upstairs, I’m deleting every image she took along with erasing them from the recently deleted folder. The first app I check is her messages, only to be horrified to find she’s in a group chat namedPuck Bunny Galore.
It seems this isn’t her first rodeo.
There are dozens of images of chiseled men, passed out in bed naked, and she’s sent them in the chat…along with a review.
Bile rises up my throat. That is wrong on so many levels.
Quickly texting myself from the phone and then deleting the thread, I do so to have her number in case I need to file a police report. I’m just glad I caught them before she sent the images to anyone.
By the time they’ve made their way back downstairs, Sarah is red in the face with fury and Chelsea…Chelsea just looks embarrassed.
Sarah marches up to me and holds out her hand. “My phone.”
