Lili Valente - Friends with Bang-ifits (The Bangover #0.5) Read online

  Friends with Bang-i-fits

  Prequel to The Bangover

  Lili Valente

  For my Street Team, the best bunch readers (and kick ass ladies) any author could ask for.

  Contents

  Also by Lili Valente

  About the Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Sneak Peek

  Tell Lili Your Favorite Part!

  About the Author

  Also by Lili Valente

  Also by Lili Valente

  Red HOT Laugh-out-Loud Rom Coms

  The Bangover

  Bang Theory

  Bang on Loosely

  Learn more here

  The Hunter Brothers

  The Baby Maker

  The Troublemaker

  The Heartbreaker

  The Panty Melter

  Click here to learn more

  The Bad Motherpuckers Series (Standalones)

  Hot as Puck

  Sexy Motherpucker

  Puck-Aholic

  Puck me Baby

  Pucked Up Love

  Puck Buddies

  Click here to learn more

  Sexy Flirty Dirty Romantic Comedies (Standalones)

  Magnificent Bastard

  Spectacular Rascal

  Incredible You

  Meant for You

  Click here to learn more

  The Master Me Series

  (Red HOT erotic Standalone novellas)

  Snowbound with the Billionaire

  Snowed in with the Boss

  Masquerade with the Master

  Click here to learn more

  Bought by the Billionaire Series

  (HOT novellas, must be read in order)

  Dark Domination

  Deep Domination

  Desperate Domination

  Divine Domination

  Click here to learn more

  Kidnapped by the Billionaire Series

  (HOT novellas, must be read in order)

  Filthy Wicked Love

  Crazy Beautiful Love

  One More Shameless Night

  Click here to learn more

  Under His Command Series

  (HOT novellas, must be read in order)

  Controlling her Pleasure

  Commanding her Trust

  Claiming her Heart

  Click here to learn more

  To the Bone Series

  (Sexy Romantic Suspense, must be read in order)

  A Love so Dangerous

  A Love so Deadly

  A Love so Deep

  Click here to learn more

  Fight for You Series

  (Emotional New Adult Romantic Suspense.

  Must be read in order.)

  Run with Me

  Fight for You

  Click here to learn more

  Lover’s Leap Series

  A Naughty Little Christmas

  The Bad Boy’s Temptation

  Click here to learn more

  The Lonesome Point Series

  (Sexy Cowboys written with Jessie Evans)

  Leather and Lace

  Saddles and Sin

  Diamonds and Dust

  12 Dates of Christmas

  Glitter and Grit

  Sunny with a Chance of True Love

  Chaps and Chance

  Ropes and Revenge

  8 Second Angel

  Click here to learn more

  Co-written Standalones

  The V Card (co-written with Lauren Blakely)

  Falling for the Boss (co-written with Sylvia Pierce)

  Click here to learn more

  The Happy Cat Series

  (co-written with Pippa Grant)

  Hosed

  Hammered

  Hitched

  Humbugged

  Click here to learn more

  About the Book

  Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

  Or in the state of Kirby Lawrence, a woman who is NOT attracted to her best friend, bad boy rock star, Colin Donovan. Not even a little bit!

  No matter how good his butt looks in those jeans…

  Crap, I’m looking at his butt! Colin’s butt!

  And the butterflies in my stomach are discoing now. Discoing!

  I avert my eyes, but it’s too late. I have already had thoughts I shouldn’t have had, and flutters that shouldn’t have fluttered.

  And I have a horrible feeling there’s no coming back from this.

  No going back to the way things were before I realized that a part of me wants to climb my best buddy like a tree and make out with his sexy face…

  Meet Colin and Kirby in this fun, flirty prequel to THE BANGOVER!

  Chapter One

  From the texts of Kirby Lawrence

  and Colin Donovan

  Kirby: Great show. Harriett brought me backstage after. I’m outside your dressing room whenever you’re ready to roll.

  Colin: Thanks. And awesome! Can’t wait to see you. Be right there.

  Kirby: Um, also wondering… Is this girl out in the hallway yours?

  Colin: What girl?

  Kirby: Oh, thank God. I thought I was going to have to stage an intervention. She’s as dumb as a box of rocks, poor thing. Gorgeous, but she just told one of the roadies that she’d be scared to visit China because she figured it would take a while to get comfortable walking upside down. No joke.

  Colin: Ouch. But the last time I checked, you don’t bang with your brain, Larry. Get her number. I’m in town for three days.

  Kirby: I will not get her number. And of course you bang with your brain. If you don’t, then you’re doing it wrong. The brain is the most vital organ involved.

  Colin: Except for a big dick.

  Kirby: Right. Except for that. But don’t talk about the D word. Since Peter had to cancel his trip this weekend, I’m not going to see him again for two weeks. And it’s already been three, so…

  Colin: Ew. Peter.

  Kirby: Peter is very nice. And he has a big…brain.

  Colin: Ha! I see what you did there. I’m sure he has a huge brain. But he also has a weird butt.

  Kirby: You met him once, and you somehow managed to find time to check out his ass? Is there something you want to share with the class, Donovan? Is all this dating of hot, big-busted women just a cover? You realize it’s the twenty-first century, right? Rock stars can be as gay as they want to be.

  Colin: If I were gay, I would be gay with someone hot. Not Pooped-His-Pants Peter.

  Kirby: What a horrible name! He does not poop his pants.

  Colin: It just looks like it in those awful khakis he wears?

  Kirby: He’s lovely in a suit. The last time I visited him at his law firm in Boston, he looked quite fetching in a gray three-piece.

  Colin: So you admit his khakis are awful?

  Kirby: Subject change. How much longer are you going to be? This girl is about to hyperventilate out here.

  Colin: Again, I ask, what girl?

  Kirby: Just a second… Let me investigate…

  Colin: You do that, Larry. I’m going to jump in the shower.

  Kirby: Her name is Maria. She won a contest. She’s supposed to get your autograph and a picture with you backstage.

  Colin: Oh shit. Right. Tell her I’ll be out in five. Six if I put in hair gel to get pretty.

  Kirby: I’m sure she’d appreciate you pretty. I doubt all this hyperventilating is solely due to the dulcet sounds of your guitar and passable singing voice.

  Colin: You love my singing voice.

  Kirby: It’s okay, I guess. I like it more when it’s on time and doesn’t keep me waiting out in the cold hallway with a girl with nipples so hard she’s about to poke my eye out. It’s not easy being a short person in a tall, hard-nippled world.

  Colin: I bet. You poor thing. Why don’t you take a picture of the situation for me so I can truly empathize with your plight?

  Kirby: I am not taking a boob shot for you, you cad.

  Colin: Ha! You know I was kidding, but I love it when you call me old-fashioned bad names.

  Kirby: Scoundrel.

  Colin: Ooo…good one.

  Kirby: Rapscallion.

  Colin: Hmmm…almost as good as hard nipples.

  Kirby: LOL. I thought you were getting in the shower. Hurry up, or we won’t make it to Chippy’s before last call.

  Colin: Chippy’s is open until two. We’ve got plenty of time. And I’m in the shower. I can do more than one thing at a time, woman.

  Kirby: Standing in the water and texting me doesn’t count as more than one thing at a time. Go actually clean yourself and get out here. I need a hug. I’ve missed your stupid face.

  Colin: I’ve missed your stupid face, too. See you soon,

  Larry. I know you’re sad that your boy toy got snowed in, but I’m glad you’re all mine for the night. It’s been too long since we had solo friend time. I like not having to share you.

  Kirby: Ditto. See you soon.

  Chapter Two

  Kirby

  “Oh my God. So you’re his friend? For real?” The girl in the skintight red T-shirt that reads “Cookies for Santa” across the top, with two giant chocolate chip cookies positioned over her glorious mammary glands, practically starts humping my leg when I convey the message that Colin will be out soon. “So you were like…texting him?” she squeals, lashes fluttering and cheeks flushing pink beneath her honey brown skin.

  “I was,” I say calmly, hoping to keep her conscious long enough to get her picture taken. “He’s sorry to keep you waiting.”

  He didn’t say that, of course, but I’m sure he is. I’ve known Colin since we were freshmen in high school, and he’s still the same thoughtful, conscientious person he was back then.

  Just more famous.

  And a lot harder to pin down for best-friend bonding time.

  I haven’t seen him since September, when Lips on Fire was in New York City for their last stateside show before heading off on the four-month European leg of their Hidden Kill Confirmed tour.

  The album’s title came from our hometown—Hidden Kill Bay, Maine, a delightful seaside village that is probably one of the safest places in America to walk alone after dark. In the original settler’s native Dutch, kil is the word for riverbed. Our town was named after a hidden river that Colin and the other boys in the band hunted down our senior year, wandering in the woods for hours to escape their well-meaning parents begging them to give up on the band dream and apply to college already.

  I love knowing these secret, behind-the-scenes details about the band, and the goofy, hard-working, hard-dreaming kids the boys were back before they grew up to be rock stars.

  For a moment I consider sharing the tour name origin story with Maria— “Cookies” as she’s become in my mind, ever since one of her chocolate chips nearly poked my eye out—but then she says, “You two are just friends, right? Not dating or anything?” in a tone that insinuates the idea of Colin and I dating would be hard to swallow, and I change my mind.

  Nope. No stories for you, Cookies.

  I get that I don’t look like a rock god’s girlfriend, but I’m not a hideous goblin person. I’ve showered recently, and my oversize black sweater, black jeans, and sensible snow boots are appropriate clothing for the Nor’easter roaring outside.

  “I mean, no offense,” Cookies continues, evidently reading the less-than-thrilled expression on my face. “I just know he likes tall girls. He’s never dated anyone under five eight. Isn’t that wild? I mean, that’s like…hard. Most girls are shorter than that, right? Like five feet or something?”

  The average height for a woman in the United States is five four, actually, only one measly inch taller than yours truly, but I decide not to share that, either.

  I make a noncommittal sound, instead, and wonder what Cookies might become if she put her limited brain power to use memorizing something more important than the heights of a rock star’s ex-girlfriends. And then I ponder texting Colin to warn him that this girl might have crossed the line from fan to stalker. But before I can pull out my phone, the dressing room door opens, and he emerges in all his manly glory, smelling of smoky fresh soap and hair gel and Colin.

  And for a moment, it’s hard to breathe.

  Even for me.

  Somehow, I always manage to forget how stupidly good-looking he is. My memory pulls tricks on me, dulling the shine in his dark eyes, narrowing his broad shoulders, muting that almost predatory confidence that makes women want to rub up against him like cats. In his absence, my logical brain insists that he can’t really be this beautiful.

  But he is, and poor Cookies is clearly on the verge of a hotness-induced stroke.

  “Hey, there, Maria! I’ll be with you in just a second. Thanks so much for waiting,” he says, beaming her way as Harriet, his publicist, rises from the chair down the hall where she’s been catnapping since bringing me backstage.

  “Oh my God,” Maria squeaks, fingers curling and uncurling in front of her glossed lips. “Sure thing. Wow. So cool.”

  Colin turns to me with a conspiratorial wink and pulls me in for a tight hug, whispering into the static-charged hair by my ear, “Ten minutes, Larry. I promise. And then we’re out of here. The car’s already waiting for us by the door. We’re going to drink cheap whiskey until we puke.”

  “How about we stop right before that part?” I say, returning the embrace with a smile. “Missed you, doofus.”

  “Missed you, too.” He makes a growling sound and hugs me even tighter, until I let out an involuntarily squeak and he lets me go with a laugh. “Sorry, just so happy to see you.” He turns to Maria as he nods my way. “I’ve known this one forever. Been friends since we were fourteen, back when she could have carried me around in her backpack.”

  “Oh, I could not,” I say. “We were the same height. For about ten minutes. And then you started all this growing business.” I wave a hand up and down his six-foot-two frame with a disgusted curl of my lip, making Colin laugh again.

  Cookies looks confused, as if she can’t quite tell if I’m kidding. But before she can hurt herself trying to work it out, Harriet herds Colin and the big winner into better light to take pictures. Harriet keeps a running commentary going as she shoots—asking Cookie questions about how long she’s been a fan—forever—what she does for work—nail tech—and what she thought about the show—super amazing and so hot.

  “So, so hot,” she echoes, batting liquid-brown eyes up at Colin as she presses one of her Cookies against his arm in a way that isn’t subtle. At all. “I seriously can’t believe I’m here, standing next to you. I’m five nine, you know. Even taller in heels.”

  Colin nods politely, while I put a fist to my mouth to hide my smile.

  Oh, Cookies. Poor thing.

  Unfortunately for her, Colin isn’t that easily won over, especially when I’m around.

  He’s never ditched me for a hookup. Ever. Not once in twelve years of friendship.

  Colin Donovan loves women, but he loves me more, a fact he proves as he hugs Maria goodbye without the slightest hint of regret and crosses back to me, hooking his arm around my neck as we start down the hall.

  “So, tell me everything,” he says, ruffling my already crackling hair.

  “Will you stop?” I bat at his giant paw. “I’m going to look like I stuck my hand in a light socket.”

  “You look fine. Same old Larry, covered in cat hair and not giving a shit . How’s the new kitten by the way? Still slaughtering everything in his path?”

  “Pretty much,” I say, ignoring the twinge in my stomach. Being the same old Larry is a good thing, and it doesn’t matter that he didn’t notice that I actually put on makeup tonight. He’s my buddy, and buddies aren’t supposed to notice things like that. And since when do I care what Colin thinks about my physical appearance? Since never, that’s when.