![]() ![]() I know plenty of girls who have taken one of the brothers for a test drive in the bedroom, but until Bonnie I’ve never met anyone who actually got to keep one. They’re all tall, dark and fuckable, but the fact that Bonnie landed herself one that seems just as obsessed with her as she is with him is new. ![]() All the Barnett brothers are hot as fuck. I know her hot as fuck boyfriend Beau turned up and dragged her off to the backroom, and that when she came back she was looking hella flustered, with that just fucked vibe pouring from her. I know Bonnie and I danced-a lot-and drank-a lot. ![]() I know what happened last night, or at least most of it. Taking a moment, I assess the state of my body and mind. At least not until my eyes are swimming and I wake up like this, regretting my over indulgence enough for me to swear off alcohol, at least for an hour or two. ![]() I love dancing, I love being with friends and enjoying myself, but I never seem to learn which cocktail is one too many. Even as memories of last night invade my thoughts, I already know that I’m hungover, and the moment I open my eyes and accept my wakefulness, I’m going to be making a run for the bathroom, to lose all of the cocktails I stupidly overindulged in. The sunlight bleeds through the blinds, hitting me square in the forehead and making pain stab through me like a knife through my skull. ![]()
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