Chapter 2
Chapter Two
“I’m going to die,” Linc grumbled. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and his head was locked in a vice. He rolled onto his back with a groan. Everything felt sluggish and?—
Should blinking hurt?
He was ninety-nine percent certain the answer was no.
He pushed himself up to prop his back against the wall at the head of the bed.
He never should’ve done shots with the guys last night.
He’d known it was a bad idea the instant it was suggested, but had he turned them down?
No. Why? Because he’d been at a bachelor party for Jake, one of his best friends, and that?—
Oh, jeez.
The room was spinning. Not good.
Linc planted his hands on either side of him, essentially using them like training wheels… for the mattress?
How many drinks did I have last night?
Obviously, too many, but he’d been having fun.
He’d promised himself to try to let loose last night.
Usually, he volunteered to be the designated driver whenever he and his friends went out.
After one, or two drinks tops, he’d switch to water so he could make sure everyone got home safely.
That was much more important to him than drinking himself into oblivion.
After dinner last night, Laurel and the girls had decided to go dancing. And whatever Laurel wanted, Jake made happen, if he could. After holding the “world’s biggest player” title for years, one sweet grade-school teacher had him whipped.
Linc had met Jake through his co-host, Emery. Linc and Em in the A.M. had been running for six years now and had smoked the competition the last five.
Emery used to rent a house with Jake’s sister, Jessa, until they both fell in love with their respective boyfriends, Gage and Chase, and moved in with them.
Since Em was Linc’s best friend, he spent a lot of time with her, which translated to spending time with Jessa and her brother, Jake.
He and Jake had become good friends. So much so, that Jake had asked him to stand up for him at his wedding.
Linc honestly never thought Jake would ever settle down, but meeting Laurel did it. He’d admitted on more than one occasion she was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he was probably right. The two balanced each other out. Linc couldn’t be happier for them.
But friends or not, they were the reason he was in a Vegas hotel room right now with a killer hangover. Okay, the hangover was on him, but he never would’ve been in Vegas this weekend if it wasn’t for Jake and Laurel’s parties.
They’d all gone to the night club last night. Since it was located in the hotel they were staying at, they didn’t have to drive anywhere. So, for once, Linc had “let his hair down,” as Em always urged him to do. The ironic fact he kept his hair trimmed above his shirt collar wasn’t lost on him.
He was definitely going to have words with Emery. Letting his hair down had won him the mother of all headaches.
After the room stopped swaying, Linc retrieved his glasses from the nightstand and put them on. Man, he must’ve had an extremely restless night because the bed was a disaster.
Odd.
He slept like the dead and usually never had to do more than pull the covers back up after getting out of bed in the morning for it to be made. He must’ve crashed diagonally or something because?—
Why does it look like someone got out of bed on that side?
He always slept on the right side, but maybe he’d gotten out on the left in the middle of the night to use the bathroom? Man, he’d had way too much to drin?—
His gaze locked on the nightstand. Or more accurately, on the half-full water glass sitting on top of the nightstand on the left side of the bed. The glass sporting a pink lipstick mark on the rim.
Shit. Did I bring someone back here?
He scrambled off the bed. It felt like his brain was three seconds behind, the sensation forcing him to grip the nightstand when it caught up and slammed into the back of his skull.
As soon as his equilibrium evened out, he realized he was naked instead of clad in the jockey shorts he normally wore to bed.
“Hello?” he called, scanning the empty room.
Nothing.
“Anyone here?” He walked around the short wall to find the bathroom empty, as well.
If he’d brought a girl here, she was already gone. If she’d ever been here in the first place.
He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
His headache had gotten worse, which wasn’t helping.
Plus, he still couldn’t recall bringing anyone back to his room.
He remembered Emery and Jessa stopping by yesterday, telling him to hustle—like he’d ever been late a day in his life—since they were meeting the rest of their friends downstairs.
Maybe one of them had a drink and left it behind? That had to be it.
The door to his room suddenly opened behind him, scaring the shit out of him. He spun around, and the world tilted.
“Shit.”
“Jesus, Pierce, put on some pants!” Jake ordered from the doorway.
Linc grabbed a towel from the bathroom and wrapped it around his waist.
“You could’ve warned me you sleep in the raw.” Jake grimaced. “Now I’m gonna have PTSD because of your junk!” He took one look at Linc’s slightly green face and ordered, “Don’t hurl on me,” before walking past him.
“No, please come in,” Linc snarked, closing the door. “It’s not like I was expecting company.”
“I tried to call. Not my fault you didn’t answer.”
He called? I don’t remember hearing my phone.
Jake gave him the once over. “You look like shit, by the way.”
“I feel like shit.”
“Aww, does wittle Wincoln have a hangover?” Jake patted Linc’s cheek harder than necessary. He was enjoying this way too much.
“Bite me.” Scowling, Linc pushed Jake’s hand away. “How did you get into my room?”
“You gave me a key.”
“Last night?” He didn’t remember most of the evening, so it was possible.
“Naw, when we checked in. Remember? You grabbed my carry-on by mistake.”
“Because you couldn’t have grabbed mine by mistake.”
Jake grinned. “Exactly.”
Linc raked a hand through his thick, messy hair, pushing it out of his face. Crap. Even his hair hurt. “That was Thursday.” They’d come up Thursday night to make a long weekend out of the trip.
“So?”
“So, it’s Saturday,” Linc pointed out.
It is Saturday, isn’t it?
Jake shrugged. “They gave you two keys. Not like you need both.” He opened the mini fridge, snagged a bottle of water, and cracked it open.
“You know they’re going to charge me five dollars for that.”
“Better you than me.”
Linc’s headache was getting worse. “Why are you here again?” He lifted his glasses and went back to pinching the bridge of his nose. Wasn’t there supposed to be a pressure point there or something to help alleviate pain?
“Cuz I knew you’d be missing me.”
Linc rolled his eyes. Damn. That hurt too.
“Fine. Laurel wanted me to check on you,” Jake fessed up. “She was worried cuz you disappeared last night. Plus, I’m supposed to bring you to breakfast, so get your ass in gear.”
Breakfast. Right. They were all supposed to meet for breakfast.
“Man, what the hell happened last night?”
Jake studied him like he was protozoa on a microscope slide. “You really don’t remember.” It wasn’t a question.
“Not much,” he confessed. “I remember all of us going to dinner, then down to the bar. I know Emery made me dance with her because Gage hates dancing. But after that…?” It was a blank. “God, I drank too much.”
“We may have overindulged.”
“Ya think?” Linc scoffed, then squeezed his eyes shut when his head started playing a heavy metal drum solo.
“Here,” Jake handed him the water. “You need this more than I do. Hydrating will help.”
“Thanks.” He took a drink. “I’m not really sure what happened after that.”
“I know you were sitting with the girls before Laurel and I left,” Jake supplied. “Jess said a couple of women even hit on you, though I can’t imagine why.”
Linc fought a smile. He didn’t have any siblings, but if he’d had a brother, he liked to imagine their relationship would be like Jake and his.
True, they’d made ribbing each other an art form, but the reason they could was because their friendship was based on mutual respect. Plus, he actually liked the guy.
“Who knows?” Jake continued. “Maybe you got lucky. Stranger things have happened.”
Did I get lucky?
Linc’s thoughts immediately went to the messy bed and lipstick-smudged glass.
No, Emery had to have left it. He’d remember if he’d had sex.
It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, so it would stick in his mind no matter how drunk he’d been.
Right? Besides, who the hell would he have slept with?
One of the women who’d supposedly hit on him?
Jake’s phone broke the silence. Linc knew it was Laurel by the ringtone: Hozier’s “Too Sweet.” Jake always said Laurel was too sweet for him. He was probably right, but they worked just the same.
“Hey, Princess, miss me already?”
Linc motioned that he was going to take a shower. Jake nodded absently, too wrapped up in the conversation with his fiancée to pay him much mind.
Closing the bathroom door behind him, Linc started the shower, put his glasses on the sink counter, and hung the towel on the wall hook. He groaned when he stepped underneath the hot spray.
God, that feels good.
Squirting some soap into his hand from the dispenser mounted to the wall, he lathered up his chest, frustrated at how quickly his mind jumped to the familiar fantasy of soaping up someone else. Someone with a southern drawl, and a lithe, dancer’s body he wanted to dominate.
Knock it off.
He didn’t have time for where that fantasy usually led.
Turning the water to cold, he quickly washed up.
After drying off, he wrapped the towel around his waist again, donned his glasses, and walked out of the bathroom to get some clothes from the dresser.
He always unpacked his things as soon as he checked into a hotel.
Nothing was worse than living out of a suitcase, no matter how short the trip was.
Em said the dressers were creepy because other people’s clothes had been in them, but if she was in the majority, no one else used the dressers besides him anyway, so it was a moot point.
Not that he cared either way. He’d never been a germaphobe.
Linc stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Jake sitting in a chair next to the sad little excuse for a desk, twirling something black around his finger. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to focus.
What is that?
He removed his glasses and wiped off the steam with a corner of his towel before putting them back on.
The item Jake had been twirling morphed into crystal clear focus.
“Something you wanna confess, Pierce?” Jake asked, dangling a very sheer, black lace bra from his finger.
Holy fuck.