Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
CIDNEY
“Girl,” Lainey cries. She laughs softly, shaking her head from side to side. “You are fucking crazy.”
My lips curve up into a grin. I am not crazy. What I am is seriously sad. I motion for the bartender to come over. I need another shot. I don’t know how many I’ve had, which is why she thinks I’m crazy.
I’m not.
But what I do need is a million shots. I should have stayed home. This isn’t much of a distraction. Not when with each shot, it makes me think more and more about him.
Trent Fairfax.
“I love him,” I confess. “What the hell am I going to do?”
Lifting the shot glass to my lips, I swallow the entire shot at once, pinching my eyes closed as I wait for the burn. It doesn’t come, but that’s because I’ve had so much to drink that my throat is numb.
Lainey shakes her head. She leans forward, her gaze connecting with mine. She doesn’t look away from me. She reaches out, wrapping her fingers around my forearm, and squeezes gently.
“You’re going to be fine. I promise,” she whispers. “Let’s go home.”
Jumping off the barstool, I shake my head. “I’m not ready to go yet.” I say the words, but my body sways, because I really should be going home. But I’m not ready to be alone. “It’s my first night.”
“Okay,” Lainey says, although she sounds slightly exhausted by my antics.
I would be too.
I’m not much of a drinker, and I’ve probably drunk more than I’ve had in a whole lifetime just tonight.
But I’m sad, and I don’t want to be sad anymore.
I don’t want to feel anything. I’m not sure what I want, but I know for certain what I don’t.
And that’s to go home to my empty apartment. I don’t want that at all.
A song comes on, and I reach out, taking Lainey’s hand, tugging her out on the dance floor.
She laughs, but I can tell she’s not comfortable.
Unfortunately, I’m too drunk to care about her comfort.
Which makes me a semi-shitty friend, but when she’s in this same position, I will be proud to be embarrassed by her drunken antics.
Closing my eyes, I lift my hands in the air and begin to move to the music. I’m a mess. I know I am. I don’t know how I’m still standing. A warm wall presses against my back, a hand slides across my belly, and then I feel hot breath against my ear.
“You’re sexy as fuck,” his voice purrs.
I don’t know who he is, but I like his voice. It reminds me of warm whiskey. Lainey’s eyes widen at the sight of him, but I don’t know if I care. He’s here, his body pressed against mine, his hand on my belly, and maybe he wants me.
We dance that way for a few moments, our bodies tangling together, and when the music stops, we don’t move away from one another. We stay that way for a long moment. The second song begins. It’s faster, so we’re the odd ones out, but I don’t know if I care.
When his hand falls from my stomach, I turn around to face him. I want to know why Lainey looked so surprised. Taking a step backward, I tilt my head back and look up into this man’s eyes.
It’s George.
I gasp, taking a step backward. He smiles down at me, his cheeks turning red. “I didn’t know… God, how embarrassing.”
I bite my bottom lip and place my hand on the center of his chest, my lips curving up into a grin. I can’t look away from him. He’s handsome, but he’s not Goose. He lifts his hand, cupping my cheek, his thumb sliding across my bottom lip.
“I need to walk away. You’re going to be my employee.”
“But I’m not yet,” I whisper.
He bends slightly, his mouth slamming against mine. I don’t know why I do it. I don’t know why I cup the back of his head, why I grip the strands of his hair with my fingers, or why I slip my tongue inside his mouth to taste him, but I do.
He’s not Trent. I know he’s not. But he’s here, his lips are on mine, and he tastes really damn good. When his fingers grip my waist, he tugs me closer to him. I tangle my tongue with his, and my back arches as I press my breasts against his chest.
He nibbles my bottom lip, shifting his head back slightly after breaking the kiss. His gaze searches mine. “You know this is probably wrong,” he murmurs.
“I know I’ll regret it in the morning, but tonight, I don’t care.”
“Come home with me.”
Her voice calls out over the music. Turning my head, I see Lainey standing just a few feet away. Her eyes are wide, and she looks as if she’s seen a ghost, or maybe she just can’t believe what she’s seeing.
“I think maybe it’s time we go,” she murmurs.
My lips twitch into a smirk. “I’m going home with George.”
She frowns, her gaze flicking from me to George and then back to meet mine. I’m sure she has questions, but I’m not answering them right now. All I want to do is fuck George and feel. I want to feel.
Turning toward George, I give him a smile. “Let’s get out of here.”
His lips twitch into a smirk before he reaches down, wrapping his arm around my waist, and then he picks me up slightly and carries me away. Lifting my gaze, I look over his shoulder and make eye contact with Lainey. She is frowning, but I lift my hand and give her a wave.
She shakes her head once, but when I blow her a kiss, she smiles. I know I’m drunk. I also know I should not do this, but this is a regret I’ll save for the morning. He carries me to his pickup truck, then presses my back against the passenger door, his mouth touching mine.
He doesn’t deepen the kiss, but his tongue slides through my mouth, tasting me before he breaks the kiss. I wrap my fingers around the side of his neck.
“No regrets about this tomorrow?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “None from me, but you’ve been drinking.”
“Funny,” I say softly, “because I feel sober.”
He leans forward, his teeth nipping my bottom lip, then straightens. He takes a step backward, and I take one forward as he reaches for the door handle. I watch as he tugs it open.
“Let’s go, baby.”
Baby.
I shrug the word off because I wish it were someone else calling me that name. Someone who just walked away from me, who didn’t even leave me a note or a text. Someone who acted as if he loved me, only to walk away without a single word.
Climbing into the passenger seat of the car, I clip the seat belt in place. I’m no longer tipsy. I feel stone-cold sober. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I watch as he walks around the front of the truck.
George jumps into the driver’s seat, and I turn toward him. He faces me, his eyes finding mine. I do something daring. Something I know I shouldn’t do. But I throw caution to the wind, because what the fuck does it matter?
“Let’s go, George.”
GOOSE
Moaning, I roll onto my back. I crack one eye open but pinch it back closed because it’s fucking bright in here. I didn’t close the blinds, and the sun is pouring into the room. It makes me feel instantly sick. I throw my arm over my eyes, hiding the sun from my vision.
I lie in bed, trying to keep as still as possible. Blocking the sun from my view and contemplating if I’m going to throw up or not. I’m not sure how long I stay there. It could be five minutes or an hour.
But when I eventually force myself to attempt to sit up, I groan at the way the room spins, and my stomach not just flips, but flops, and I wonder if I will be able to keep from puking.
Shifting my legs over the side of the bed, I place my feet flat on the ground and grip the edge of the mattress as I attempt to focus on a single object.
Breathing in and out, I groan again, then grunt as I stand to my feet. I take one step, then another, my feet unstable, my movements less than fucking normal. It doesn’t matter. I need to get my ass down to the bar and get another drink.
If I don’t get some hair of the dog, I am going to puke everywhere and be knocked down for days. I don’t remember the last time I drank that much, but I can’t do it again. I also can’t attempt to get completely sober. It needs to be a slow and steady process.
Slow and fucking steady.
Stumbling and swaying, it takes me a while, but I eventually make my way to the bar. I don’t even try to sit on one of the stools. Instead, I hold on to the edge of the bar top for dear goddamn life.
“I need one beer, one shot, and a bottle of water,” I demand, my voice sounding gruff and almost foreign even to my own ears. The prospect behind the bar jerks his chin, then gets to work doing what I’ve demanded.
“Holy shit,” a voice hisses next to me.
I don’t move quickly, knowing if I do, I’ll throw up on whoever is standing beside me. Turning my head, I look over to see Piggy. I’m surprised he’s here. He usually doesn’t come down to the clubhouse when he’s on shift, and he’s very much on shift right now.
“I’m on my lunch break, but Lainey called me last night. She was concerned and wanted me to check on you.”
“Concerned?” I ask
He hums, his gaze sliding down to my feet, then back up to meet mine. “As she should be. Aside from you still being bruised the fuck up, you’re on a bender.”
“Okay…” I say, my single word trailing off. He flicks his gaze down to his own boots, then slowly lifts his eyes to meet mine.
“She went out with Cidney last night.”
My stomach flips, but not because of my hangover. Because of that. Cidney. I don’t bother responding to him. If I say something, it’ll make me look like the pussy I am. So I don’t say a word. In fact, the prospect sets a shot in front of me, and I take the moment to down it.
“And she went home with someone.”