Blame It on the Tequila - Page 26

But first, my bladder called for a bathroom.

I let Ash know and made my way down the single hallway, almost pouting like a child when I took in the four doors on each side. With a deep breath, I sent up a quick prayer I didn’t walk in on anyone fucking.

First door, empty bedroom.

Second door, group of pot smokers. After politely declining, I resumed my search.

Third door, locked. God, I hoped that wasn’t the bathroom.

Fourth door—I didn’t bother because I could hear the couple banging against it on the other side.

Only four more to go, I promised my bladder.

Fifth door, a guy getting a BJ on the edge of the bed.

Fifth door, I cringed, about to shut it when my heart dropped. My bladder was forgotten, and every ounce of tequila threatened to come up with each rioting roll of my stomach.

Fifth door, I shattered, not knowing how much I cared until watching the possibilities be snatched away.

Fifth door, Parker leaned on the bed, his lips parted, head tipped back, and eyes closed as a girl kneeled between his parted legs, her dark head very clearly bobbing up and down.

He groaned, and his eyes slid open, locking on mine, widening.

“Shit.”

I jerked back into action, shoving all hurt aside and locking it away. “Fuck this. I’m leaving.”

He promised to not leave me for Kelly, and yet here he was, getting his dick sucked, leaving me stranded with the guys. Maybe he really did need me as a wingman, and he was dancing with me to get Kelly going. Maybe this was all just a fucking waste.

“Nova,” he called just before I slammed the door.

Keeping my head down, I barreled through the crowd, blocking out anyone calling my name. I made it to the elevator, the doors just opening when the music blared into the hallway with the opened door.

“Dammit, Nova. Stop.”

I willed the doors to close faster but didn’t get that lucky. He stopped the door and climbed in with me.

“What are you doing here?” I sneered.

“Making sure you don’t run off half wasted and get hurt.”

“Like you care.”

I kept my eyes glued to the panel of numbers, begging the elevator to move faster. From my periphery, I watched his hands dig into his hair. He let out a frustrated growl before facing me.

“What do you want, Nova?”

“Nothing I can have,” I grumbled, letting some honesty slip free.

He shook his head and huffed a laugh. “You’re drunk.”

“And you’re a whore.”

“No. I’m a seventeen-year-old guy.”

“Exactly,” I snapped. “A fucking whore.”

“Jesus Christ,” he laughed without humor.

For as much as I stayed still and kept my eyes forward, he moved. His arms flew out in exasperation. He paced the small cube, rubbed his mouth, and shoved his hands back into his hair.

“You know what? Fuck it,” he said, stepping closer. “I went with her because if I stayed with you, I’d have taken you to that back room, and that can’t happen.”

That got my attention. I jerked my head up, meeting his angry, heated eyes.

“Yeah. Exactly,” he said, like my shock confirmed he made the right choice. “I would have taken you back there and made you dance for me again, this time taking your clothes off until I had access to every inch of you and could do what I really fucking wanted. And the only reason I’m telling you this is because you’re too drunk to remember in the morning.”

I couldn’t ever imagine not remembering this. This moment when his words set me on fire. When my cheeks flamed with the thought of being naked in front of Parker. Embarrassed that I liked the image he painted. Terrified of wanting it too.

“Why didn’t you?” I challenged.

“Because it’s not right, Nova. It’s too complicated.”

The obvious answer fell from his lips like he hated saying them as much as I hated hearing them.

“Parker…” I said his name because I think I just needed to hear it, but I didn’t know what to follow it up with. In the end, he was right. The can of worms giving in would open wasn’t worth it. At least, it wasn’t on paper. The tequila made everything swirl in a not-so-fun way, and I just wanted to go home.

“Yeah?” he asked when I didn’t say anything else.

“I’m tired.”

He heaved a relieved breath like I’d pardoned him from death, and I understood it at the same time as hating it. The door slid open, and he held his hand out. “Let’s go home.”

I latched on gratefully and let him lead me home. Usually, we took the subway, but after such a long night, we opted for a cab.

By the time we made it home, my exhaustion had turned a little crazy, and every time I stumbled, I giggled like an idiot. Parker did his best to keep me upright, laughing with me.

Tags: Fiona Cole Romance
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