Drunk on You: an age gap, enemies to lovers, fake engagement, office romance (Love & Whiskey Boo

Chapter Twenty-Four

Julian’sstrong arms wrap around me from behind, and for a second, I forget about what I saw and allow myself to sink back into him, getting lost in the comfort of his touch and warmth.

He nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck, and I tilt my head slightly to give him better access. As he trails kisses along my flesh, I let out a needy moan, wanting more.

I never knew how cold and lonely sleeping alone was until I spent the past month sleeping in the same bed as Julian. The thought of going back to sleeping alone is sad and depressing. But instead of allowing those emotions to settle within me, I push them out and focus on the emotion that’s easier to hide behind—anger.

And then he speaks, and his words are enough to set me off.

“I know it’s late, and I should probably let you sleep,” he murmurs. “But I need to know, baby, did you get off without me?”

Pushing off him, I roll to the other side of the bed and slide off, needing to get away from him. It’s too hard to be strong with his body wrapped around mine and his scent invading my senses.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I mutter, unable to look at him.

I snatch my phone off the nightstand and lock myself in the bathroom. When I see it’s after two in the morning, it takes everything in me not to stomp back out and demand Julian admit to what he’s done. But after googling how to handle a cheater, I learned that most cheaters would lie anyway, so it’s pointless. What’s done is done—lesson learned.

Since we have to get up in a couple of hours to head to the airport anyway, after I go pee and wash my hands, I jump in the shower to prolong facing Julian. I hear the doorknob jiggle, but thankfully, I had the foresight to lock it.

I take my time blow-drying and straightening my hair, and then I put on my makeup, going a bit darker and edgier and making sure my red lipstick is perfect. Once I’m ready for battle, I step into the bedroom with my robe wrapped around me.

Only, when my eyes land on Julian, I find him passed out in bed. Of course he is. Probably wore himself out fucking Sonia.

I quickly get dressed and then spend the rest of the morning in my makeshift office. I couldn’t even tell you what I’m working on, but the only way I know to distract myself is to delve into work. Hours pass by, and the next thing I know, Julian is leaning against the doorframe, watching me.

“Is it time to go?” I ask, still refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Yeah.”

Taking a deep breath, I pack my laptop and charger and then walk to the door with my head held high, hoping he’ll let me by without stopping me.

And for a moment, I think he’s actually going to—until, at the last second, he extends his arm, blocking the doorway.

“Excuse me,” I say, trying like hell not to let my emotions seep through. “I need to get by.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

“We need to go so we don’t miss our flight.”

“It’s a private plane,” he drawls, “with your last name across the side. It’s not going anywhere without us. So, let me ask you again, and this time, don’t deflect. What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” I tell him, doing my best to remain strong while, inside, I’m trembling.

I’ve learned from this ordeal that refraining from being in relationships might mean being lonely and not getting laid as often, but it also means not risking having your heart ripped out of your chest.

“Ana,” Julian says softly, “if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t fix it.”

“It can’t be fixed,” I choke out, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. “Now, please move.”

He sighs, but drops his arm, respecting my wishes, and I take off down the hall to grab my luggage and go to the car that’s waiting to bring us to the airport.

The car ride and plane ride are intense, the tension so thick that you could cut it with a knife, but Julian doesn’t say a word to me the entire time. Instead, he just stares at me, like he’ll somehow be able to reach into my head and get answers.

When we arrive in Vegas, another car is waiting to take us to the hotel we’re staying at. The rest of the day flies by, both of us working our asses off with our team to make sure everything is perfect for Saturday night. And when Julian and I stumble into our room, he doesn’t even try to get answers from me.

We both shower, and then early the next morning, we do it all over again. Only tonight, we’re meeting Ronan and his team for dinner. Thankfully, we’ve agreed that when it comes to work events, we behave professionally, which means Julian needs to keep his distance despite Ronan knowing we’re engaged.

We have dinner in a private suite, where we reveal Ronan’s personalized whiskey.

“Damn, you guys are good,” Ronan says as he and his team try Kingston’s Ronan Flynn Limited Edition Irish Whiskey. “This is smooth with the perfect amount of malt.”

“That’s our job,” I tell him. “Now, for your drink.”

I nod toward the waiters, and they bring out glasses of Mo Ghrá—meaning my love in Irish—which takes him back to his roots. His mom is from Ireland, and she was the reason he fell so deeply in love with music. She passed away last year, and he wanted to honor her and his love of music.

“This is your signature Irish whiskey, mixed with one of our top dry red wines and a touch of orange.”

Ronan takes a sip and grins, nodding in satisfaction. “You guys nailed it.”

“That’s what we like to hear,” Julian says. “This drink will be served at the club opening tomorrow night, along with bottles of Ronan Flynn Limited Edition.”

We spend the next couple of hours eating and drinking while discussing the specifics. I let Julian take over while I drink my weight in alcohol, hoping it will help dull the constant pain in my chest.

When dinner is over and we part ways, instead of going up to our room, I head down to the casino bar to drink some more. I’m two, maybe three drinks in when Julian sits in the seat next to me.

“This seat is taken,” I mutter.

“Yeah, by me.”

Since it’ll be easier for me to leave than argue with him to go, I finish off the last of my drink and stand. I already gave the bartender our room number so he can charge my drinks there. I drop a twenty onto the bar top as a tip and walk away, unsure of where to go.

Before I can make it too far though, Julian grabs me by my hip and pulls me into a darkened hall, pushing me up against the wall.

“I’ve given you your space, but I’ve had enough,” he says, caging me in his arms, his palms resting on either side of my head and his knee nestled between my thighs. “What the fuck did I do that has you acting like this?”

“I don’t even know why you care,” I hiss. “Wouldn’t your time be better spent with Sonia?”

Julian’s brows furrow in confusion. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the gorgeous blonde I saw all over you at Carlson’s. Tell me this…does she know you’re engaged?”

The corner of Julian’s mouth quirks like he’s about to smirk, but he tamps it down quickly. “You saw us at Carlson’s?” he asks, ignoring my question. “Why didn’t you come over and say something?”

“I figured three was a crowd.” I glare, and this time, he doesn’t hide it when he barks out a laugh.

“Oh, fuck, Red. You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” I spit. “I just don’t like to play games. If you want to fuck her, go for it. But don’t crawl into bed afterward, expecting me to spread my legs for you.”

I try to wiggle out of Julian’s hold, but he lifts his knee, pushing the bottom of my dress up and grinding it against the apex of my legs as his hip pins me against the wall, stopping me from going anywhere.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he murmurs, his eyes locking on mine. “The only woman I’m fucking is you.” One of his hands lowers to between my legs, and he rubs me in the perfect way that has me releasing a traitorous moan. “And I’d better be the only man you’re fucking.”

“Then, who the hell is she?” I argue. “Because I’m not stupid and I saw her touching you.”

“She is Sonia Rodriguez, the chief marketing and strategy officer for the Houston Flyers.”

“The NBA team?”

“Yep. I met her through a business acquaintance, and with the NBA season starting soon, I told her I could meet whenever she was available. She’d been out of town, and she said she could meet Wednesday night, and considering we were heading to Vegas, I didn’t want to reschedule.

“She was touching you,” I mutter, sounding like a child, but I know what I saw.

“She did,” he admits, continuing to rub friction between my legs.

With the material of my panties being so thin, it’s like there’s nothing between my pussy and his material-clad knee. And if he keeps this up, I’m going to come all over his knee, right here in the hotel casino.

His admission snaps me out of my fog, and I push his knee away.

“Why the fuck would you let her touch you?”

He grins, and if I were a violent woman, I would smack that smile right off his face.

“I love every side of you, Red. The passionate workaholic, the feisty fighter, the soft lover, but I must say, the jealous side of you has me so damn hard.”

He takes my hand in his and pushes it against his crotch to show me, and despite my being pissed at him, my mouth waters, wanting to wrap my lips around his hard length and remind him who he belongs to.

Oh shit. Who he belongs to…because…

“You’re mine,” I breathe, speaking the first honest words regarding us since we started this whole mess of a thing.

“Damn straight I am,” he says, palming my cheek affectionately. “And that’s exactly what I told her. And if you hadn’t run, jumping to conclusions, then you would’ve known that.”

“I…” I shake my head, feeling like a fool. “I’m usually smarter than this. I’m a numbers person. I deal with data and statistics. I base my decisions on facts and research. But this whole relationship thing is driving me nuts.”

“Because falling in love isn’t a math equation you can solve,” he says with a hint of humor in his tone. “It comes from in here.” He presses his hand on the area above my heart. “Feelings can’t be analyzed. You have to go with how you feel.”

“Love?” I whisper. “Do you love me?”

“Yeah, Ana,” he says. “I love you. I’ve fallen in love with you, every part of you. The good, the bad, the stubborn, the workaholic, and the soft part of you that you only let a small number of people see, including me.”

Oh my God. Julian Parker is in love with me. He sees me and gets me and accepts me, and in spite of it all, he still loves me.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” I ask curiously. “You have every right to be. I just accused you of cheating without any proof.” If I were in his position, I’d be pissed at the false accusation.

“Because when I told you I’d wait, I meant it. From the first time we spoke, I knew you wouldn’t be an easy catch, but I’ve learned over the years that most things in life don’t come easy, and you’re worth it.”

He leans in and brushes a kiss to my lips, and I wrap my arms around his neck.

He deepens our connection, slipping his tongue into my mouth so I can taste the whiskey on his breath, and then he lifts me up, pressing me harder into the wall while I wrap my legs around his waist.

“If it were up to me, Red,” he murmurs against my mouth, “I’d marry you right now. That’s how sure I am of us. How sure I am of the love I feel for you.”

His admission shocks me, but not in the way I’d expect. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been drinking—though I’m nowhere near drunk—but it’s as if these feelings for him are burning bright and colorful in the dark, cold night, and I don’t want them to disappear. I want to stoke the flames and fuel the fire. Now that I’ve felt the warmth, I don’t want to go back to the cold. Now that I can see, I don’t want to be blind.

“Okay,” I blurt out.

“Okay what?” he says slowly, though based on the hopeful look in his eyes, he knows what I’m talking about.

“Let’s get married.”

“Are you serious right now? Don’t fuck with me, Red,” he warns.

“I’m serious,” I tell him. “We’re already engaged, and we’re in Vegas. And…I’ve fallen in love with you too. Let’s do it, Julian. Let’s get married.”