“Iiiiiiii think I want another tequila shot!” I knock on the bar, and Cami laughs but gives me another shot.

Bless her.

I throw it back, the burn barely registering since it’s my third of the night. Fourth? No, no, third. Maybe.

Don’t fucking judge me, I’m stressed out, okay?

Michael kept calling. I finally answered.

Then I broke things off.

I mean, god, is doing something just because I like it so much to ask???

And it’s fucking exhausting making sure we go places where no one we both know would see us.

Who has time for all of that?

Well, me now. I have nothing but time. But that’s beside the point.

“No more drinks for her, Cam.” Mickey comes up and steers me away from the bar, despite my protests.

“When did I become the fun one?” Am I slurring? Hmmmmmm.

Interesting development.

“Stay here. I’m getting you food and water.”

Has this couch always been here? The music seems really loud, but I like it. Wow, this couch is really, really comfortable.

I’m sleepy. And sad.

“I’m on babysitting duty, how ya holding up Superwoman?” Leo? I think it’s Leo. He sits down and his lap looks really comfortable.

His thighs are so big. Good pillows. I switch directions on the couch and pat his thigh, laying my cheek on one.

Mmmm yes, very wide, very warm.

I feel his body shaking under me and I weakly swat his knee.

“Don’t laugh at me.” I yawn.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He pats my shoulder lightly, and I close my eyes. Where’s Mickey with food?

* * *

I realize two things immediately.

One…I had way too much to drink.

Two…I have no idea where I am.

It’s dark and my contacts are dry, and I grope near the floor, hoping my purse is near.

I feel the snakeskin handles and pull them towards me gingerly, trying to move as little as possible in case my head starts pounding.

I didn’t know delayed hangovers were a thing…until I got one.

“Bingo,” I whisper, pulling out my glasses case. Now, I need a bathroom.

I’ve no idea what time it is, but it’s dark so I’m going to assume I haven’t slept long.

I swing my legs off the couch, squinting. My eyes ache so badly and everything is blurry.

I never sleep in my contacts. It’s a life rule.

I stumble towards what I think is a hallway and feel along the walls for doors. I twist the first knob I feel.

It’s an empty bedroom, and for a second, it feels familiar. My mind’s too groggy to place anything.

I close my eyes and flip the light switch, because I know it’s probably going to hurt like a bitch.

“Shit.” I hiss, dropping my head. I take a deep breath and slowly crack my eyes open in slow increments, until I’m just blinking in the mirror instead of squinting painfully.

I’m never drinking again. The last thing I remember is laying on Leo’s lap.

I carefully take out my contacts, which is made much more difficult by them being dry, and finally slide my glasses on.

My face is going to break out tomorrow from the tequila, I fucking know it. Flipping off the light, I pad out of the room and back to the living room, stopping in my tracks.

It’s Dane’s place.

I turn the lights on low, using the dimmer switch, and take in all the exposed wood and steel of his place.

I loved it the moment I stepped inside for the first time.

“Where are you, hockey player?”

I leave the living room and go to the end of the hallway where I know his bedroom is.

“Dane?” I knock lightly, and when I don’t hear anything from the room, I push the door open. I’ve actually never been inside, for good reason.

There’s a huge bed, and who needs extra ideas when he’s already drool-worthy to look at.

I was never into hockey games like my Dad. Anytime he’d go, I’d set it up to be a good opportunity to invite some people to his group lounge, but I always declined.

Usually, I’d be busy mingling at events, so if we were in the same room before Harlan and Kaija met, I never realized it.

It’s not like anyone would’ve expected us to be friends anyway.

Heck, I didn’t expect to click with him so much. I’m pretty sure he talked shit about me the first time we met, after I walked away.

Then again, that might’ve happened with most people.

I know my sisters thought I was a colossal bitch, but in my world, niceties didn’t get things done.

I step inside and gasp because I hadn’t looked down at the floor, and it’s not wood like everything else. It’s some sort of cool, glossy concrete and there’s a large black shaggy rug in front of the bed.

This room is fucking gigantic.

There’s a huge distressed brick wall behind the deep gray bed frame, and I can see pretty well because his floor to ceiling windows don’t have the curtains drawn.

I avoid the overwhelming urge I have to jump on his bed because it looks so comfy and walk over to the windows. He really does have a gorgeous view. I trail my hand over the black frame, lost in looking at the lights and the skyline.

“What are you doing in here?” Dane’s voice is rough and I turn, but suddenly find it very difficult to form words.

“I r-r-realized I’d never seen your room.” Of course, my stutter would decide to show itself right now. I’d worked for years to get over it.

It only comes out when I’m really overwhelmed. Which is rarely.

“You thought 4 am was a good time to check it out?” He walks towards me, his lightly bearded face shadowed some, and the light moving over his very exposed body.

Up until this moment, I’d basically made it my mission to not be aware of all of Dane’s assets.

My bubble is burst for good now.

Am I sweating?

Taut, golden skin is stretched over a very well-defined physique. I bet an anatomy student could find and label every single muscle there is, that’s how cut he is. And so much for people not having winter tans!

The towel’s not doing anything to hide his powerful legs or anything else, and I let out a low breath.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph…someone take the wheel.

“I d-didn’t…I mean…wasn’t really t-t-thinking ab-b-bout…” So embarrassing.

“I never knew you stuttered.” He’s standing only about a foot away from me now and his face is unreadable.

“I don’t adv-v-vertise it.”

“You picked the wrong night to be curious, Keyra.” Gruff, his voice laced with something so different than any other time we’ve been alone.

I close my eyes, almost afraid to ask. Almost immediately, his hard body is flush with mine and I shudder, eyes still closed and feeling his breath float across my ear.

He leans into me more and I know his hands are braced against the glass.

“You’re going to have to clean those hand-prints.” I swallow, expecting him to tease me or something. To set us back on familiar ground.

“I intend to be balls-deep inside you when the sun rises.”

I expected everything but that.