Struck by Stupid (Festive Fun Book 2)

Copyright Copyright © 2023 by Amanda Bentley All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is purely coincidental. ISBN (paperback): 979-8-9868923-3-7 Struck by Stupid (Festive Fun # 2) Amanda Bentley Books LLC [email protected] Contents Dedication Playlist 1. Chapter One 2. Chapter Two 3. Chapter Three 4. Chapter Four 5. Chapter Five 6. Chapter Six 7. Chapter Seven 8. Chapter Eight 9. Chapter Nine 10. Chapter Ten 11. Chapter Eleven 12. Chapter Twelve 13. Chapter Thirteen 14. Chapter Fourteen 15. Chapter Fifteen Bonus Chapter Also by Amanda Bentley Acknowledgments Dedication To anyone who's ever been stupid for a guy. Because same. Playlist Listen on Spotify! "Next Ex" by Sueco "Goodbyes" by Post Malone, Young Thug "Trust Issues" by Olivia O'Brien "Walking Away" by Chelsea Cutler "I Can't Hate You" by Kayou, yaeow "Bad Habit" by Black Pistol Fire "We Don't Talk Anymore" by Charlie Puth, Selena Gomez "Just About Over You" by Priscilla Block "stupid" by Tate McRae "Want You Back" by Saint Young, LiL Lotus "Awake" by Godsmack "Somebody To You" by The Vamps, Demi Lovato "Secret Agent Man" by Johnny Rivers "Just Friends" by Olivia O'Brien "Bad" by Royal Deluxe Chapter One January 1st “Who the fuck is Brad?” My eyes are glued to the screen, watching as the time changes to midnight. Why the hell is fuckboy Brad writing to me on New Year’s? “I thought you said you didn’t have a boyfriend.” I look up at Lorenzo, whose eyes are burning in the darkness. He searches my face and must see the utter confusion in my expression, because I watch the heat sizzle out from him. “I don’t,” I respond. Brad didn’t even show up for our date. A thousand reasons whirl through my mind as to why he’d be writing to me now. He’s horny and alone on New Year's. He finally remembered that he never showed up. He’s a fuckboy. “Are you going to explain?” Lorenzo asks, but it sounds more like a demand. I meet his icy stare and straighten myself on the bed. “I don’t owe you anything, Lorenzo.” He must like sex with shoes on because mine are still on my feet, just like last time. I search the bed for my dress and toss it over my head once I locate it. I feel way too vulnerable to be half naked in front of him. I could have sworn after we had sex, when I caught him looking at me, that I saw something more. But obviously, my mind was playing tricks on me. A moment ago, he was kicking me out. He didn’t even bother to offer me a ride home this time. “You think you’re gonna fuck me and have some other guy texting you?” His tone oozes anger, and it infuriates me. “You can’t be serious.” I start to laugh as I finish sticking my hands through the sleeves of my dress. “Deadly.” I stand up from the bed and take the few steps that close the gap between us. I crane my neck, leveling him with an icy stare of my own. “First of all, you fucked me. Then, you kicked me out. I don’t even know why you invited me to this party if you were just gonna treat me like shit!” I spit the last words, hardly recognizing my voice. “Kicked you out? The fuck are you talking about?” His voice is louder, filling the small space between us and reverberating off the walls that suddenly feel too close. “You offered to order me an Uber!” “You were half asleep! And in case you forgot, I first offered for you to stay here. I thought I was doing you a goddamn favor!” This has quickly turned into a screaming match, but I’m too peeved and drunk to care. “Oh, how thoughtful of you! I’ll just invite her to a party where she doesn’t know anyone, keep ditching her, shame her when she’s too drunk, and abandon her after we finish having sex!” I shove his shoulders on the last word, but his feet stay rooted in place. “Is that the fucking story you’re telling yourself? Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head in disbelief, causing my blood to boil. My breathing is too heavy, and I swat at the now uncurled tendril in my face. “I hate you.” The words escape my lips out of anger, but they feel as real as they sound. “Fuck you and your friends with benefits bullshit!” I storm out of the room, slamming the door behind me. I run—literally run—down the hall and out the front door into the dark night. My heels clap along the pavement as fireworks explode around me, yet I find nothing to celebrate. I’m aware that I’m acting like an overly emotional teenager, but I’m too pissed off to give a damn. When I reach the driveway, I catch sight of Lorenzo’s car. If I had a bat, I’d smash it through one of his stupid windows. I need to calm down. I take a few deep breaths, steadying my racing heart and mind. This is all my fault, really. I knew it was a bad idea to come here. Hell, I knew it was a bad idea to have sex with Lorenzo in the first place. Whatever pull he has on me ends tonight. He hasn’t even come out to check on me or explain himself, so all the more reason. When I feel for my purse, I realize I left it in the room. I debate just leaving it there, but I never took my phone back from Lorenzo. Which leaves me no choice but to go back inside.