“Okay, Tipsy let’s get you some water.”

“Mads, don’t be a buzzkill. I’m not tipsy. I’m having FUN!”

And on that note, I casually take the wine glass from Phoebe’s hand and replace it with water. I love my girl, but I’ve been down this road and tipsy fueled by emotion is never a good look on Phoebe and usually ends with tears. I look over to where Duncan and Kelsey are dancing and wonder if I should rally the troops and head home.

“Mads?”

I turn to Phoebe and see her eyes wide and her skin ashen. Oh no.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I think we have to put me to bed.”

“I agree. Let me find your mom.”

I sit Phoebe at a table with her water and scan the backyard for Evelyn. Once I spot her, I make my way across the patio to where she’s standing with a group of ladies. The moment she spots me, she excuses herself and greets me halfway.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Do you think we can stay here tonight? Phoebe isn’t feeling well.”

“Oh dear. Of course. I already had the rooms made up just in case. Does she need anything?”

“Nah, she’ll be fine. I should get her to bed. Would you mind letting Duncan and Kelsey know we’re staying tonight?”

“Of course, dear. Let me know if you need anything.”

I excuse myself and make my way to Phoebe. Before I return to Phoebe, lying with her head on the table, I grab two bottles of water from the bartender and stuff them in my pockets.

Once we’ve made our way inside and up the staircase to Phoebe’s old bedroom, I open the door and guide her to the bed. When I’m kneeling before her, pulling off her shoes, I hear the first sniffle.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“I don’t know. I . . . I’m sorry. I got drunk.” I toss her shoes to the side and kick off my own while I remove the contents of my pockets then my belt. Phoebe sits on the edge of the bed staring off in the distance. Once my shirt is discarded, I pull her up and help her out of her dress before pulling back the covers of the bed. Phoebe lies on her side with her eyes closed. Once my pants are off and I’m in only my T-shirt and boxer briefs, I climb in beside her.

“Hey, look at me,” I say, pushing her hair out of her face.

Phoebe opens her eyes and looks at me, crestfallen. I have no idea what set her off, but I know something is bothering her. It’s more than this party. It’s more than graduation and turning twenty-three.

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t even know what it is. I’m probably just overwhelmed and drunk. I should have eaten more than a taco and some chips. You, mister,” she says while trying to tap my nose and instead poking me in the eye, “should’ve made me eat more.”

I chuckle and tug her toward me. “It’s completely my fault you and Kelsey slaughtered three bottles of white wine. You’re right. I have failed you. Forgive me?”

“I suppose. I mean, you are kind of hot. Even if you insist on labeling everything.”

I kiss her lips gently as she yawns and her breathing slows and I know she’s asleep. Even as she sleeps, I see Phoebe’s mind working. If she’d let go of the thirty different arguments she has with herself everyday about what she’s doing, what the future holds, and who we are as a couple—or non-couple—we’d be golden. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’ll tell her about the interviews and New York.

First, we sleep.

The upside to sleeping at the Strombergs? A bed that feels like a cloud and the million thread count sheets. The downside? My morning wood and not being able to do anything about it.

“Oh my God! Kill me. Who let me drink all that wine?”

I laugh at Phoebe’s dramatics before I realize it isn’t Phoebe but Kelsey talking. I sit up and note Kelsey is cuddled up behind Phoebe. Huh.

“Uh, Kels?”

“Morning, pseudo bro-in-law.”

“What are you doing in here? Why aren’t you with your fiancé?”

“Whiskey.”

“Ah. Got it.”

Duncan and whiskey are a guaranteed snorefest, and I know from rooming with him that sleep is not in the cards when he’s indulged. After a few minutes of loudly whispering about the night’s festivities, Phoebe begins to stir where she lies between us. Unaware of Kelsey’s appearance while we slept, her hand instantly reaches for my dick and because it has a mind of its own, I groan as it grows and she increases her grip.

“Babe?”

“Mmmhmmm . . .”

“Babe,” I say more sternly, causing Phoebe to open her eyes and glare at me. I’m never one to turn down any attention she gives me so she seems surprised. I nod behind her, and she glances over her shoulder but never removes her hand from my crotch.

Minx.

“On that note, I’m going to wake my fiancé and drag him downstairs for some breakfast. When should we plan on leaving?” Kelsey asks before looking down at where Phoebe’s hand is massaging me and rolls her eyes. “Nevermind, we’ll see you guys downstairs. After I go add some sexytimes to my morning agenda, thanks for that, Phoebs.”

“Welcome,” Phoebe purrs as she smiles and nestles into my embrace. Her tongue begins to make circles on my neck and the semi I was sporting has turned into a full-blown erection.

“Hold that thought, I’ve gotta take a piss,” I declare before hopping off the bed and making my way to the en-suite. Once I manage to pee, which is difficult with the wood I’m sporting, I swish some mouthwash and return to the bedroom. Phoebe is drinking from one of the bottles of water on the night stand and smiles as she walks past me to the bathroom. I hop in bed and wait for her to come back. It’s likely Phoebe will be ready for a little more shut eye before we head out.

The moment the door opens and Phoebe appears in nothing but her panties, I struggle to remember I don’t want to disrespect her parents and their home. The reality is I’m ready to fuck her six ways to Sunday. Oh wait, it is Sunday. I watch as she walks to the door and flips the lock.

A simple move and my dick is twitching in my boxers. Phoebe sashays her way to the end of the bed and slowly climbs on, making her way to me. She straddles me and my hands go to her hips.

“Why aren’t you naked?” she asks, her voice a little raspy in the early morning.

“Baby, we’re at your parents . . .” I don’t finish my sentence because she leans down, her naked breasts rubbing through my shirt while she takes my earlobe between her teeth. Phoebe begins to rotate her hips and the hard-on I’m trying to keep at bay is making a fool of me as it instantly makes a reappearance.

“It’s okay, we can be quick. Besides, it’s hot knowing we could be caught.”

I don’t need to hear more. Before she takes my earlobe between her teeth again, I sit up and pull my T-shirt over my head. Phoebe giggles and slides off my lap while pulling my boxer briefs off in one fluid movement then holding them up on one fingertip like she’s won a game of capture the flag. Her laugh fills the room as I flip her onto her back, but the moment I take a nipple between my teeth, the giggles quickly turn to moans. My hand instantly covers her mouth to muffle the sounds. I may be willing to risk getting caught, but I’m going to do everything I can to deter that from happening.

Normally, I love to feast on Phoebe. I usually take my time riling her up, slowly making my descent to her panties, licking through the silky fabric until she begins to mewl. But not today. No, the idea of her dad knocking on the door makes this more of a quickie than our normal leisurely Sunday morning romp. I don’t bother to remove her panties, I simply tug them to the side as I plunge into her. Arching her back, a look of ecstasy takes over Phoebe as she lifts her hips to meet me thrust for thrust. My hand moves from her mouth and lifts her leg so it’s slung over my arm, giving me deeper access to her. I know the minute her orgasm takes over.

It’s at the exact moment there’s a knock at the bedroom door. Our eyes meet and Phoebe mouths “don’t stop” as Duncan, who I now understand why Phoebe has nicknamed Fuckan, starts laughing and making grunting noises from the other side of the door.

Two more pumps and I come along with Phoebe who starts laughing. Talk about mood killer.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m laughing because that was maybe the hottest hangover sex we’ve ever had. Now I’m hungry. Feed me or lose me forever.”

“If you’re trying to quote Top Gun, you’ve failed,” I tease while placing a kiss on her lips before grabbing my boxers from the floor. I’ll be going commando on the way home instead of using one of the towels and leaving evidence behind.

“Nah. No eighties movie quotes from me. But seriously, feed me. I’m starving!”

I toss my boxers at Phoebe who cleans herself up.

God, I can’t wait to tell her about our possible new life in New York. Every morning can be like this but without the underlying tension of being caught.