27. Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Morgan
“ R ock me mama like the wind and the rain, rock me mama like a southbound train,” I belt under the spotlight at the karaoke bar, turning to Beau who pulls his microphone to his lips with his signature country-boy grin.
“Heyyyyy, mama rock me,” we sing together, our harmony completely off-key.
We take a bow as the crowd cheers around us, probably more out of gratitude that we’re getting off the stage than in praise for our ridiculous “Wagon Wheel” performance.
“Crushed it.” I hop on Beau’s back as he weaves us through the sea of people in search of our friends. I have to hang on with one arm while the other holds my Revolve mini dress over my ass, trying to refrain from flashing any strangers tonight.
“That was iconic, but I’m pretty sure they thought you were the bride and groom. And I’m not gonna lie, it made me a little jealous,” Claire says once we reach our table, her red lips falling into a dramatic frown.
She’s right—on our walk back, several people commented that we made a cute couple. Which—gross—zero percent of me is attracted to that meathead. But it’s also entirely her fault because for some ungodly reason, she made us all wear white tonight.
Apparently, Cass mentioned that she wanted to do a black and white theme this weekend, so Claire took that to mean we wear black one night and white the next. If she had just consulted with me, instead of keeping everything secret until the last minute, she would’ve known that idea was ridiculous.
Beau softly drops me to the ground before wrapping his massive arms around his girlfriend. “Hey, pretty girl. Wanna go dance?”
Claire beams up at him and nods, her earlier pout vanishing in an instant.Before I can even sit down, they disappear onto the crowded dance floor.
“So who was the better duo? Me and Cass, or Me and Beau?” I ask the table.
Parker and Walker are engaged in a serious conversation about board exams, completely oblivious to my question, so I flick my eyes to my best friend and smile sheepishly.
“Obviously you know I love you, but I think Beau and I were the crowd favorites. ‘Since U Been Gone ’ just didn’t hit the same way it does in the basement of GJ’s.”
Our local bar features a live karaoke band on the weekends, and we’ve been known to light up the room with a duet of the iconic song by Kelly Clarkson. It’s always a hit, and the first time we screamed the lyrics, I lost my voice for two days after—now it’s kind of our tradition.
“That’s okay.” Cass laughs, adjusting her gold glitter sash that has brIDE written across the front. “I received enough applause for a lifetime earlier.”
“Hell yeah, you did. Hottest bride and groom that Hurricane Heatwave has ever seen. ”
Her cheeks flush bright pink, likely thinking back on the moment when the entire crowd at the male strip show was on their feet, screaming for her and Parker while they got a dual lap dance.
I’m sure if they had been sober, it might have gone very differently. But in their tipsy state, they were both having a blast. Parker even broke into a full smile at one point, which I hope means the stick has officially been pulled out of his ass for good.
I look down at my empty glass. “I need a refill.”
Cass nods in agreement, her hazel eyes scanning the busy bar and landing on an opening in the corner.
Getting to my feet, I peek at my tits to make sure they’re contained before I grab my best friend’s hand and lead us through the chaos.
“Two vodka sodas, please,” I yell across the sticky bar before turning to Cass.
A massive wave of affection washes over me—she’s truly glowing tonight, with her blonde hair in loose curls and a full face of makeup done by Claire. I can’t help but picture her on her wedding day, and after my conversation with Parker, I’m genuinely excited about their marriage for the first time.
I reach out to put my hands on her shoulders, steadying myself as I suddenly feel all of the liquor from the day catch up with me. “I love you.”
She smiles softly down at me. “I love you too.”
“No, you don’t understand.” My chin wobbles as guilt hits me hard. “You mean so much to me, and I feel horrible for being such a bitch about Parker. I was the worst. And I’m sorry. And I hope you forgive me. Please forgive me . . .”
I lurch forward, squeezing her waist as hard as I possibly can. It’s not the most eloquent apology I’ve ever given in my life—blame it on the alcohol—but I mean it with my whole heart. Cass is like a sister to me, and it would kill me to have done something that ruined our friendship.
“Of course I forgive you, Morg, but I’m going to kill Parker,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes as she pulls back from our hug. “He said something, didn’t he?”
I blink up at her, trying to keep a straight face as I remind myself that I don’t have to tell everyone everything. “Nope.”
She chuckles. “You really are the worst liar.”
“Okay, but don’t be mad at him. I’m glad he did—he’s off my shit list. For now.”
Cass arches her brow suspiciously, but she doesn’t say anything else because fresh drinks are pushed toward us. We both take our glasses and hold them up in a toast. “Well, cheers to that.”
“And cheers to being the hottest bitches ever,” I add, slinging back my drink in one long chug.
As I’m goading Cass into finishing her vodka soda, Beau comes up to us. Sweat beads on his wide forehead, and he looks exhausted as he holds Claire to his chest protectively. She’s clinging onto him with a sloppy smile on her lips, her eyes halfway closed.
“Gonna take her back,” he says, understanding the looks on our faces without us having to ask. “Fell on her ass during ‘You Belong With Me’ and almost took two people out with her.”
“Baby giraffe,” I state lovingly, referencing the drunk alter ego we gave Claire a few months ago.
He looks down at his girlfriend with adoration. “Baby giraffe.”
“Can you please check on Caroline before you go to bed?” Cass asks, finally finished with her drink.
The youngest Winters sibling started puking her guts up in the pool bathroom, so Cass and Parker took her back early while the rest of us enjoyed the party this afternoon. She was still curled around the toilet in our room when it came time to head to the show. I offered to stay with her, but she insisted that she had learned her lesson with sugary drinks and that I should go on without her.
Beau nods with a small laugh as he shifts to better support Claire’s weight.
“Yeah, of course. I’ll make sure she’s still breathing and not swimming in the toilet bowl.” He brushes a stray curl away from Claire’s face as she mutters something indecipherable, but probably affectionate, in her semi-conscious state.
Cassidy gives him a grateful look. “Thanks—let us know if she needs anything, okay?”
“Will do,” he replies, starting toward the exit. “Hey, y’all coming back soon? Or planning on staying out for a while longer?”
I glance at Cass since this is her night.
“We’re definitely staying,” she says confidently, grinning at me.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Beau calls over his shoulder.
A pair of lemon drop shots appear next to us, and I narrow my eyes on the bartender. She looks overworked, her dark hair slicked back with a mixture of sweat and product.
“From the guy next to you.” She gestures her head to the man beside me.
I step back and quickly assess the stranger. He’s the definition of a finance guy with a trust fund. In another life, I would have totally made out with him because he’s a solid six-five and has sparkling blue eyes. His friends are of a similar caliber, probably all hoping to get lucky tonight by buying women twenty dollar shots.
“You didn’t poison these, did you?” I ask suspiciously, taking the shots off the bar and sniffing them. “I’m small, but I can still kick your ass.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he smiles genuinely, the dimples of his clean-shaven cheeks popping.
I smile back before handing one to Cass. We tap the shots together, tossing them back with practiced ease.
“So, what’s the occasion?” I ask, setting my empty glass on the bar with a loud clink.
“Just out with the boys.” He gestures toward his group. They’re loudly cheering on a friend who’s chugging a pitcher of beer like he’s a frat bro in college. “Saw you two having a good time, and thought I’d add to it. No strings attached.”
The man introduces himself as Alex, and we shoot the shit for a while before his buddies drag him away. Surprisingly, he pulls out of their grasp briefly to jog back over and hand me his business card, asking that I call him.
I take it with a laugh, appreciating his effort.
Turning to Cass, I look down and read out loud. “Alexander Cooke, VP at Crosswood Capital Bank. New York, New York.”
I give myself a pat on the back because my initial assessment of him was spot on.
“You gonna call him?” Cass asks, handing me another drink.
I shrug, taking a sip of an incredibly strong margarita as I scan the crowd. The bar has gotten substantially busier as the night has worn on, but we somehow still have a line of sight with our table. Walker’s dark gaze finds mine, his eyes narrowing in agitation—either he’s tired of being here, or he just witnessed what happened .
“Want to tell me why Walker is staring at you like you’ve done something wrong?”
I squint at him, trying to decipher the expression on his unreadable face. His arms are crossed, and his posture is rigid. But there’s a flicker of a dare in his eyes, like he’s challenging me to keep it up and see what happens.
Turning back to Cass, I shake my head slightly. “I guess he didn’t appreciate the attention from Mr. Finance Bro.”
“Interesting.” She narrows her eyes on me curiously. “And what about the four P’s?”
“Uh.” I pause, trying to remember the first part of the nursing acronym. I’m pretty drunk, and I have no fucking clue why she’s asking me about this right now. “Pain, potty—”
“Physicians, Morg,” she corrects, looking at me like I’m the biggest idiot in the world. “You refuse to date anyone whose job title starts with the letter P, remember?”
Oh . . . that.
First of all, everyone has hard rules that we swear to follow until we meet someone who makes us want to break them—it’s called growth.
Second of all, Cass should be happy that I’m joining her stupid doctor dating club. She’s been teasing me about Walker since the engagement party, so the fact that she appears shocked right now is bizarre. If I’m so easy to read, how the hell could she not read this?
“We’re not dating,” I state simply, though earlier today I almost said that I would just to get him to stop talking to other women at the pool party. “We’re just friends.”
Cass gives me an amused glare, waiting for more.
“That hookup,” I add.
She sips her drink with a smirk.
“Exclusively.”
Her smirk transforms into a smile, and I roll my eyes.
Fine—if she wants me to admit something to her that I only just admitted to myself, I need more shots.
I wave for another round, needing to brace myself for what’s turned into a much deeper conversation than I anticipated. The bartender quickly sets down two more lemon drops, and I grab one, tossing it back before Cass can even reach for hers.
“I think I really like him,” I admit, watching my best friend wince as the liquor goes down. “It’s disgusting. And I hate it. And I’ve tried to stop, but he’s just . . . he’s just really patient.”
While everyone was getting ready for the evening, Walker and I had a talk. I still have no idea what, specifically, I want. But today I realized that I know who I want—and it’s him.
Cass puts her glass down on the bar, her expression softening. “You want more.”
It’s not a question—it’s a statement that I wholeheartedly agree with.
“I want more,” I echo.
“More what?” Parker interrupts, wrapping his arms around his fiancée. The second button on his white shirt is undone, peeping a smattering of chest hair that Cass leans into.
“Yeah. What do you want more of?” Walker asks as he comes up behind me. His huge hands thread around my hips, pulling me against him so close that I can feel his hard cock pressed against my lower back.
I gulp and glance hesitantly at Cass. She winks at me before responding, “More fun. Wanna go to another bar?”
Parker kisses her neck affectionately. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”
The last thing I remember from the night is my best friend drunkenly running down a random street in Las Vegas and belting out “Can’t Help Falling In Love” by Elvis Presley.