3. Toby
CHAPTER 3
Toby
R olling over, I reach for the half-empty bottle of beer on my nightstand, even before my eyes fully open. I chug it back to kill the dull throbbing in my head and cautiously allow my eyelids to part.
Please don’t let it be morning.
Late morning sunlight spills through the open blinds, and I curse at it. I’m not even aware of where I am yet; the realization that this isn’t my usual bed is not quite registering.
“Go away!” I beg the sun. “Get out of here!”
“Who are you yelling at?” a woman calls from the ensuite bathroom. “Me?”
I sit upright, the alcohol seeping through my bloodstream and giving me a burst of clarity. The events of last night flitter back to me in pieces, fragmented but extremely pleasant—and humiliation burns through me to realize that our companion is still in the hotel suite.
Shit. I hadn’t meant for her to hear me.
A blonde head appears in the doorway of the bathroom, and I take in her svelte figure, groaning again, this time in mortification. I strain to get a better look at her, digging deeper into the recesses of my memory.
What was her name again? Dara? Donna?
“You want me to leave?” she asks, sounding hurt, but a bemused smile rests on her lips—I think.
It’s hard to make out the distinct lines of her face, although I’m sure it’s pretty. We’re not in the habit of picking up unattractive types, even in the worst of our stupors. My brothers are pretty good at keeping that straight.
She’s pure temptation, the bathroom light casting a halo around the blonde of her hair, but blinding me to all the rest of her.
“No,” I tell her. “Not you. The sun.”
She grins. “Ah, I see.”
She moves to close the blinds and encase the bedroom in darkness again. It’s better, but it’s not great, because I still can’t see her, and my head is still pounding.
I’m not in good shape.
“I see all those shots caught with you.” She ambles toward me and slides her purse over her shoulder.
“Were you drinking water shots?” I grumble resentfully. “How are you so damned perky?”
She titters. “I paced myself a bit. And yes, there was some water involved.”
My eyes close again. I don’t need a lecture from her. I get enough of those from my brothers.
“A stiff drink and a plate of greasy food—that’s my go-to cure every time.”
I peek at her through half-lidded eyes, caught off guard by the almost nurturing edge in her voice. My mind scrambles to piece together everything I forgot from last night. Flashes come back—her body against mine, the way she moved, the sounds she made, and the kind of release that leaves you wrecked and wanting more.
Diana! That’s her name!
She ruffles my hair affectionately and heads out the door. “See you later.”
Hope ignites at the words.
Will I? See her later? That would be all right. Seeing her when I don’t feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.
“Wait!” I mumble.
Pausing in the doorway, she glances back.
I push myself upright, and a sharp throb pulses through my skull in protest. “You’re leaving?”
She grimaces lightly. “Yeah. My cousin is blowing up my phone. Apparently, I’m holding up the whole itinerary.”
Cousin? What? Was there a cousin too? Fuck, how much did we drink last night? Where did we even find Diana in the first place?
My brow furrows more.
We’d done a casino crawl, and suddenly she was there … but where did we pick her up?
All this recollecting makes my head pound more.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay and eat?” I’m not even sure I can get my ass out of bed right now, let alone order her food.
And where the hell are my brothers? How did she end up alone with me?
Ugh. I need more sleep.
Amusement laces her expression, and I’m grateful when she shakes her head, even if the movement makes me dizzy. “No, I’d better get back. They’re already mad at me. And I don’t think you’re in any kind of shape to entertain me over breakfast.”
I stare blankly at her, and the corners of her mouth turn inward. Her eyes narrow as she peers at me.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I mutter. “Do you need a car?”
“My hotel is just over… Never mind,” she sighs, as if she realizes I don’t remember much. “I’m good. Bye, Toby.”
She leaves, and I lie back down, pulling a pillow over my head, willing death to come for me while I sleep.
* * *
I wake a few hours later to find a glass of water, a bottle of aspirin, and a note by my bed. It’s the first thing I see when I open my eyes, and again, I think I’m dreaming as I sit up. Slowly, I pick up the handwritten note, and my heart skips at the unexpected kindness.
Hope you’re feeling better. Thanks for a fun night.
D.
A spark of shame rushes through me as I suck back a couple of the white pills and down the water. I hadn’t sent her off very nicely in my sorry state, and I wish I had a do-over now.
I don’t bother dressing as I hope that she’s still around, but I can’t be that lucky as I amble out of the bedroom toward the main floor.
“Fuck, it’s about time. It’s almost one o’clock,” Brock complains when I saunter downstairs.
They’re already drinking again, and I grunt at the sight of the mixed drinks.
“You just wasted half the day sleeping,” Owen sighs.
“I tried to wake you up,” Brock volunteers. “But I think we’d have more luck waking the dead.”
“We’re not on the ranch. I don’t have to get up at the ass-crack of dawn,” I argue, flopping onto the couch and curling up in the fetal position.
“Right. As if you ever wake up at the ass-crack of dawn without someone pouring cold water on your head at home,” Brock counters.
Owen laughs. “That girl wore you out! Our poor baby brother!”
Brock nods. “Next time, we’ll have to find someone a little slower for him.”
I can’t help but laugh as my brothers mock me. “She was something, huh?”
Brock eyes Owen. “Yeah, she was fun.”
“Did any of you get her phone number?” I ask hopefully.
Brock raises his brows. “Baby bro, she didn’t even give us her real name.”
I frown. “Why do you say that?”
Owen shakes his head with a crooked grin and pushes to his feet, heading for the kitchen.
Brock rolls his eyes and tosses a look my way. “Honestly, sometimes I wonder how you would’ve survived after Mom died if it weren’t for us.”
I bristle, the jab about Mom hitting harder than I want to admit. “You always act like I wouldn’t have made it without you,” I snap. “All I said was I think she gave us her real name. Why is that so hard to believe?”
Owen sighs, and I realize he doesn’t think she did either.
Brock lifts a brow. “Toby. She just wanted to have fun. She didn’t give us her real name, and she certainly didn’t give us a way to contact her. Why are you all hung up on a girl you barely know?”
“I’m not hung up on her, “I grumble defensively. “She left me a note. I just wanted to say thank you.”
Owen eyes me curiously. “A note?” he repeats. “What did it say?”
Now I feel like an idiot for having brought it up at all. They always have this way of making me feel ten years old again. I should’ve known better than to say anything. Everything seems so much easier for them, and somehow, I’m the one who ends up feeling like the asshole.
“Nothing.” I stand to join him in the kitchen. I need coffee.
“Oh, come on,” Brock insists. “What did it say? Maybe we can find her if she left you a love note. Who are we to stand in the way of true romance?”
His jeering is beginning to piss me off. Why did I even agree to come on this stupid trip? Owen and his goddamn charm, convincing me that it was “just what we needed” a “brotherly regrouping” and all that other bullshit he fed me.
“Tell us, Toby,” Owen urges. “What’s the note say?”
I know better. I shouldn’t tell them.
“She just said she hoped I was feeling better, and thanks for a great night.”
“Oh, I see. So you want to thank her for a thank you note,” Brock offers sarcastically. “Well then, let’s hire a private investigator to track her down right away.”
I grab the coffee pot and pour a cup, feeling heat rush up the back of my neck.
I’m such an idiot.
“Take your coffee and go get dressed. We were waiting for you to eat,” Owen says quickly, sidestepping Brock’s taunting. “None of us are happy when we’re hungry.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to refuse, to tell them to go without me, but Owen seems to anticipate it, and he steps closer. “We came here to blow off steam, Toby, not create more. We’re here for one more day. I don’t want to go back to Pine Sky with more baggage than we left with.”
His gaze bores holes in me. “Go get dressed.”
I swallow my resentment.
Simmering below the surface, I do as I’m told. There’s no sense in arguing when it’s two against one, anyway. Those two will always side against me.
But when I’m alone in my room, I sprawl on my bed and open my phone. Diana’s scent twines with mine in the sheets, making me hard. I want to ask my brothers if they remember what hotel she’s staying at, but I don’t dare. I’m not bringing her up to them again.
But if I can find her on my own, they can’t stop me from looking her up.
I scroll through Instagram, looking for Diana in Texas, fully expecting to see her pretty face smiling back at me. How many Dianas in Texas can there be?
It turns out that there are a lot.
Time gets away from me, and Owen bursts through the door, half an hour later, scowling.
“Seriously?” He glowers at me in disbelief.
Jutting my chin out defiantly, I shrug. “Sorry. I got caught up in something.” That’s not a lie.
“We’re fucking starving, Toby. You’ve kept us waiting on you half the fucking day.”
“Okay, okay.” A stab of guilt slices through me. “Give me five minutes.”
“Five minutes. Give me your phone.”
I hand it to him and begrudgingly dress to join them, but I can’t get the sweet note and gesture out of my head. That woman was the best one we’d ever brought home—not just because she was sexy as fuck. There was something about her.
It’s a damn shame we’ll never see her again.
Maybe I’ll keep looking for her when we get back.