CHAPTER 3
One Tequila, Two Tequila…Floor
“So why the hell did you want to move to Tennessee?” Tara asks.
I’ve been working at the hospital for about two weeks now, and I’ve been Tara’s shadow since the day I started in the ER. Tennessee is nothing like Vegas. Not only are the people different, but the ER here is much calmer. I look at Tara and smile when she raises an eyebrow at me. One thing I learned quickly is that people here have no problem getting in your business or asking personal questions.
“I just needed a change.” I shrug, putting away another patient folder.
“I can understand that. I need a change, like a nice sandy beach and a hot guy to wait on me hand and foot.” She smiles, her head tilting back like she’s imagining herself on a beach right now.
“Autumn, Tara,” a deep voice says.
Tara and I look up and smile at the same time.
“How are you ladies this evening?” Dr. D, or Derik, asks. He’s a very, very attractive black man; sadly, he is also very, very gay and has an even hotter boyfriend.
“Good,” Tara and I say in unison. We laugh, pointing at each other and calling out, “Jinx!”
I’ve found myself laughing a lot more often since I started working here. In general, I find myself a lot happier period. All of my coworkers are very nice and easy to get along with. So far, I haven’t met anyone who is petty or mean.
The one thing that hasn’t changed is my relationship with Kenton. I can’t get over the amount of anger I feel towards him. Maybe it’s stupid and immature on my part, but he hurt my feelings when he said all that to whomever he was talking to on the phone. Worse, I’d thought he’d been starting to like me.
“What are you girls doing this weekend?”
“I need to sleep,” I say, closing my eyes for a second. “My body hasn’t adjusted to this schedule yet. I swear, if it weren’t for coffee, I would be lying facedown on this desk right now.” Plus, if I slept, I could continue to avoid Kenton.
He’s left me a note daily and somehow got my cell number, so he’s started texting me. He never says much. Mostly, he asks how I am, if I need anything, and if I am settling in at my job. I never answer him. I can tell that he is becoming frustrated. I have no idea how to face him, so I do the easiest thing and avoid him like the plague.
“Sleep is overrated. You two should come out with me and Stan this weekend. There’s a club that just opened up downtown. We could go out, have a couple drinks, and dance. Wouldn’t that be fun?” Derik asks.
I look at Tara, who nods her head, and I quickly agree. I need to start acting my age. I should be having fun and going out, and now that I have a few people I trust, I have a reason to do that.
“Sure, but I won’t be staying out late. I have dinner plans with a friend on Sunday in the early afternoon,” I tell them. I’ve had dinner with Viv and her family the last two Sundays, and now, she expects me to be there. Her daughter is really sweet. Plus, her niece is supposed to be coming this weekend and Viv really wants me to meet her.
“That’s fine. Two drinks tops.” Derik smiles and the desk phone rings.
Tara picks it up and stands suddenly. “Got it,” she says, looking at Derik. “When?” she asks and listens for a few more seconds before hanging up the phone. She leaves from behind the desk and I follow her. “The ambulance is in route. Male, thirty-four, gunshot wound to the right shoulder. He’s conscious and may need a transfusion. We need to get everything set up. The ambulance is five minutes out,” Tara says, and all three of us run down the hall to prepare the trauma bay before the patient arrives.
The ambulance pulls in and what I least expect happens. The guy is conscious, laughing, and joking with the EMTs like this is a routine occurrence for him. He hasn’t lost enough blood to need a transfusion, and it doesn’t appear that the bullet hit any arteries; it was a clean in-and-out shot. All he’ll require is a few stitches and an overnight stay in the hospital.
“Are you sure you two don’t want to give me a sponge bath?” Finn, our bullet wound patient asks.
I laugh, shaking my head at him, but Tara doesn’t seem so sure about turning him down. His tall, lean body, boy-next-door good looks, and easy smile definitely make him swoon-worthy.
“Not tonight, handsome,” Tara tells him, batting her lashes.
His hand goes over his heart as he flops back down in the bed and winces. “You wound me, Blondie.”
“I’m sure your ego will be okay.” She smiles.
Tara is really beautiful. She has that whole Southern belle look going for her—long, blond hair, big, blue eyes, and a cute personality. Actually, looking between the two of them, I see Ken and Barbie.
“You need to be careful with that shoulder,” I scold Finn as he winces again when he sits up.
“I could go home with you and you could look after me.” He grins, making me roll my eyes.
“Sorry, but I promised my roommate I wouldn’t take my work home with me.” I start laughing, thinking about Kenton and what he would do if I showed up with a guy who had a gunshot wound.
“Your roommate sucks,” Finn mutters.
“Tell me about it,” I reply with a smile.
A second later, my body goes solid when the voice behind me hits my ears. “What the f*ck is going on, Autumn?”
I close my eyes slowly, hoping that I’m wrong. When I turn my head, four large guys are standing near the door and none other than Kenton is standing in the middle of them.
“Autumn?” one of the guys says. My eyes go to him and he smiles. “Shit, boss. This is the Autumn who works at ‘Vander’s Belt’?” He laughs loudly, his eyes going back and forth between Kenton and me.
My eyes shift back to Kenton, seeing his jaw tick. “Um…” I mumble, taking a step back.
“Vanderbilt,” Kenton pronounces, his voice a low rumble. The anger in the one spoken word rolls against my skin, creating goose bumps. “Do not f*cking move,” he demands when I start to take another step back.
My body freezes in place as I watch him move towards me, his eyes locked on mine. I feel stuck in place under his glare.
When he’s within touching distance, his hand wraps around my bicep and his mouth comes to my ear. “No more f*cking ignoring me,” he growls.
If the wetness in my panties is anything to go by, I like his aggression. I look at Dr. D, who is looking at Kenton with his mouth hanging open, and when his eyes come to mine, he bites his lip. Apparently, he is not going to be any help.
Kenton drags me out of the room and down the hall. He stops at the first door we pass, and his hand that’s not holding me goes to the handle. Finding it unlocked, he leans into the room before tugging me in with him.
“What are you doing?” I ask when I get over the shock of seeing him here.
“You said you worked at a f*cking strip club,” he says, letting me go.
“I never said that.” I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest, watching him pace back and forth in front of me like a caged beast.
“You’re a nurse?” He stops across the room, watching me. His eyes travel from the top of my head to my sneaker-covered feet.
“I am, but it changes nothing,” I hiss, leaning forward.
He storms towards me and I retreat until my back hits the wall. Before I can register the move, his mouth is on mine, his hand twists in the hair at the back of my head, and I gasp. He takes the opportunity to lick into my mouth. I try to fight him; I try to pull my mouth away, but his grip on my hair tightens. When he bites my tongue, I lose it.
I kiss him back, and all the anger I feel towards him goes into that kiss. I bite his lips, bottom then top, and claw my nails through his hair. He growls down my throat, his big body pressing me harder into the wall. We each fight for dominance, but he wins, pinning me in place, his body overtaking mine.
When he pulls his mouth from mine we’re breathing heavily, both still holding each other close. I can feel every hard inch of him pressed to every soft inch of me. He places his forehead to mine and it takes a few seconds to come back to myself. My eyes open, meeting his.
“This changes nothing,” I tell him quietly, my lips still tingling from his kiss.
“You’re right.” He takes a breath, his lips moving closer to mine. “You f*cking changed everything.”
“Back up.” I push against his chest only to have him press harder into me.
“You don’t get to push me away. You don’t get to lie to me, even if it’s by omission.”
“I never lied to you,” I mumble, looking away from him.
“‘Vander’s Belt’—that’s not a f*cking lie?” His hand comes up to my cheek, forcing my eyes back to him.
Okay, so I might have fibbed, but it wasn’t a lie. “You’re an a*shole,” I tell him, still pushing against his chest.
“Call me what you want, but I know you feel this thing between us too. Don’t f*cking lie to yourself.”
“The only thing I feel towards you is anger,” I growl.
Then his mouth comes back down on mine, stealing my breath. This kiss is more punishing than the previous one; and I whimper when he pulls away. My hands, which were trying to push him away, are now wrapped into his T-shirt.
His mouth goes to my ear. “If I stuck my hand between your legs, your p-ssy would be wet and wanting.”
I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to get rid of that image. My eyes fly open when his hand cups me over the thin material of my scrubs.
“So hot.” His fingers press harder, and I stand on my tiptoes, trying to get away from what he’s making me feel.
Part of me wants to jump up, wrap my legs around his hips, and grind myself into him. The other part of me wants to kick him in the nuts and scream in his face for having the power he has.
*
Kenton
I look down into her big, blue eyes and groan. F*ck me. She is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever looked at. She’s perfect, and I don’t just mean on the outside; I mean on the inside too. She’s sweet in a way that is hard to believe, especially coming from her lifestyle.
I tried to keep my distance after I picked her up at the airport and got reminded of what she did for a living, but when she was around, I couldn’t help but want to soak up a little bit of her time. She’s not what I expected. She’s not what I wanted, but f*ck me if she’s not what I need.
From the moment I saw her, I wanted her. I walked into the airport knowing that she wasn’t expecting me. I’d messaged Link earlier in the day telling him to let her know I wouldn’t be picking her up. I’d had a lead on a case and thought I wouldn’t make it in time, and I didn’t want her waiting for me.
When I spotted her long, red hair in the crowd, I watched her run for one of her bags. I couldn’t help but laugh when she fell forward and landed on the belt before being dragged with it. She didn’t give up though. She pulled it off the conveyor belt over her head, falling backwards with the weight of it. She was cute.
When we got into the car and I sat down next to her, the doors closed and her smell suffocated me. Her long-ass legs in her shorts made it hard to concentrate on the road, and then I asked her about how she knew Link. I may get around, but I didn’t like the idea of her being with someone who was a friend for some reason, and then she reminded me that she worked at a strip club, throwing all ideas of getting to know her out the window.
I look over her face again and shake my head. I have f*cked up with her in ways that even thinking about them makes me sick. I don’t have an issue with strippers in general, but I know what happens at strip clubs. I do understand that not all women are the same and there are dancers who work in clubs to make money and nothing more, but I also know that there are some who go home with men at the end of the night or are willing to go a little further in order to make a little extra cash.
“Step back,” she says, and I shake my head, pressing deeper into her.
She smells like flowers or something sweet. I have wanted to be this close to her for a long time. Now that I’ve got her where I want her, I’m not backing off.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks softly, squeezing her eyes closed.
“I want you. I want to get to know you.”
“No,” she breathes, shaking her head.
“Yes.” I press her harder into the wall.
“The things I know about you, I don’t like.”
I know she’s just being honest, but it doesn’t mean that it makes my chest ache any less. I don’t know her well, but the parts of her she has let me see have been sweet, feisty, and so f*cking cute that I have had to stop myself from kissing her when she laughs or does something that makes me smile.
The look in her eyes when she walked into my office when I was talking to Nico on the phone still haunts me. I know that my cousin was trying to make me see that I was interested in her, but I didn’t need his help with that. I knew I wanted her; I just didn’t know how I could deal with my jealousy. The thought of men looking at her or touching her makes me feel homicidal.
When she spoke, her words tore me open. I knew that, regardless of my own fears, I needed to find a way to deal with it or I’d lose her before I ever even got to have her. Then I went to Nico’s house and saw him with Sophie and how close they had gotten. The way she looked at him like he had the power to turn on the sun had me feeling jealous. I wanted that for myself.
Nico was right in telling me to get my head out of my ass. He told me that if I wanted something, I had to take it; I couldn’t ever let anyone or anything hold me back. I want Autumn more than I’ve wanted anything before. I wanted her even before I knew she was a nurse. I would be proud to take her home to meet my family. My parents and sister would love her.
“Give me a chance.”
“I can’t. You’ve already said so many cruel things to me. I can’t willingly open myself up for more of that from you.”
“You know the night I made you dinner, when you told me it was the first time you had been happy in a long time? You weren’t the only one who felt that,” I gently confess to her.
“I was drunk. Isn’t everyone happy when they’re drunk?”
I laugh and her eyes meet mine. “Don’t lie to yourself.”
“I’m not. You’re lying to yourself. I’m a stripper, remember? I may not be one now, but I was. I can’t change that.” She shakes her head, causing her hair to slide against my skin.
How many nights have I lay in bed thinking about her hair spread out around her while she sleeps or hanging over me as she rides me to completion?
“I shouldn’t have said what I said. I should’ve been man enough to admit what I was feeling for you. I said some f*cked-up shit in order to cover up how I really felt.”
“I don’t know,” she says, confusion lacing her voice.
“We’ll take it slow. I just need you to stop avoiding me. I need to be able to talk to you, to see your face,” I practically beg, pushing her hair out of her face.
“Friends?” she suggests with a tilt of her head.
“More than friends, baby, but we can start out as friends.” I lift her chin to look into her eyes.
*
Autumn
Our eyes meet and I shake my head. Friends? Can I be friends with him? Probably…and it would probably be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.
His hand runs along the underside of my jaw, his thumb touching my bottom lip.
“I don’t know,” I repeat, closing my eyes. “Why?” I don’t know if I’m asking him or myself, but I just don’t know why I feel this pull towards him.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” he asks, leaning into me.
Heartbreak is the first thing that comes to mind.
“Autumn?”
I jump at the sound of Derik’s voice and lean around Kenton’s wide frame so I can see the door. My eyes meet Derik’s, and then his go to Kenton before settling back on me.
“Sorry, but I gotta go and can’t leave Tara on the floor alone,” Derik says.
“I’m coming right now,” I tell him, trying to duck away from Kenton, whose hold on my hip tightens.
“I’ll see you Saturday night,” Derik says, closing the door.
“What’s Saturday night?” Kenton asks, and I feel his fingers dig into my skin.
“We’re going out,” I tell him, trying to step away again.
“A date?” The word ‘date’ spits out of his mouth like it tastes bad.
“We’re going to a club or something.” I shrug, attempting to move again.
“What club?”
“I have to work. I don’t have time to play Twenty Questions with you right now,” I state, finally wiggling out of his embrace.
“You’ll have dinner with me on Sunday,” he says rather than asks.
“I have plans.”
“With who?” he growls, his jaw grinding.
“Viv,” I tell him exasperatedly.
“Viv?” He raises an eyebrow at me.
“Yes, Viv. Now I really need to go.” I put my hand on the doorknob to open it.
“Don’t think we’re done talking,” he says close to my ear, startling me.
I look over my shoulder and our eyes meet. I nervously lick my bottom lip and his eyes drop to my mouth. He leans in, and I’m frozen in place. His mouth softly brushes mine and he leans back, looking at me again.
“See you at home, baby,” he whispers, making it sound almost like a threat. He smiles, showing off the small dimple that fascinates me.
I inhale a deep breath and nod. My insides are going crazy, my heart beating double-time.
I walk down the hall towards the nurses’ station, trying to ignore the fact I can hear his boots behind me. I spot Tara, and her eyes go big when she looks over my shoulder. When they come back to me, she smiles an odd smile and I shake my head in a slight move, letting her know to hush.
As soon as I make it to the desk, a bell goes off and I practically yell that I’ll go check on the patient. Tara doesn’t say anything. She just nods, and I make my way quickly down the hall to the patient’s room. I take my time in the room, making sure everything’s taken care of before going back to the nurses’ station. I walk around the corner and see that the area’s empty except for Tara. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Who the hell is Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, and where the hell did he take you?” Tara asks as soon as I take a seat. I try to think of a way I can avoid answering that question before looking at her. “Please tell me you are sleeping with him regularly.”
“Oh God.” I cover my face with my hands.
“What? Oh no… Please tell me he isn’t one of those guys who look all hot and yummy, but then you get to the package and get a surprise…and it’s not a good one.” She sits back in her chair, shaking her head in disappointment.
“He’s just a guy who’s been letting me stay with him,” I tell her, hoping she’ll drop it.
“So, you’re not together?” Her eyebrows come together in confusion. “I would’ve sworn he was your man with the show he put on earlier.”
“Nope.” I shake my head frantically.
“Sooo…you live together, but you’re not together?”
“Yes.”
“How the hell can you live with someone who looks like that and not jump their bones?” she asks, dumbfounded.
“He’s an ass. Trust me—it’s not as hard as you think it is.”
“I can see that.” She nods in understanding, her eyes searching my face. “You know he wants you, right?”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Oh hell yeah, he does. You should have seen the way he was looking at you and then the way he was watching your ass when you guys were walking down the hall. He wants you, girl, and he doesn’t look like he is the kind of guy you can put off for very long. Not only that, but why in the world would you want to put him off in the first place? If I were you, I would be waiting for him naked on my hands and knees when he got home and walked through the front door.”
“Can we not talk about this?” I ask pleadingly. The images that are now in my head of Kenton and me have started a small throbbing in my core.
“Are we still going out Saturday?” she asks, reading my face.
“Yes,” I respond immediately.
“Good. I need to get out.”
“Me too,” I say softly before getting back to work. The rest of the night I spend quietly trying to think of a way to avoid going home.
*
“Oh my God, you have to try this,” Tara says, shoving a drink in my face.
We got to the club about ten minutes ago, and after making it inside, we fought our way to the bar for a drink and to wait for Derik and his boyfriend to show up.
“What is it?” I ask, leaning away from her before taking the drink from her hand.
“An All-American Root Beer. It’s so good. You can’t even taste the Jack,” she promises.
I put the straw to my lips before taking a small sip. She’s right; it’s sweet and I can’t taste any kind of alcohol. “It’s really good!” I shout close to her ear.
She takes the drink back from me, lifting it up to the bartender while holding up two fingers. He nods in understanding as Tara sits back down next to me.
“So, how have you and Mr. Hot Guy been?”
I bite my lip and think about that question. How are Kenton and me? Well, I’m still trying to avoid him, and he seems more determined than before to not let me avoid him. Before, he would leave me notes or texts, but now, I have to deal with him face to face.
Like last night. I went downstairs to get something to eat, and when I walked into the kitchen, he was there. I couldn’t exactly leave without making it obvious that I was dodging him, so I went about making myself a sandwich. The only problem was that, every time I turned around, his body would rub against me or his mouth would come close to my ear when he spoke. No matter what I did, he was there in my space. By the time I left the kitchen, I was a huge mess and had to take another shower. I still can’t figure out why he affects me the way he does.
“Earth to Autumn.” Tara snaps her fingers in front of my face.
“Sorry,” I apologize, shaking the thoughts away.
“So are you going to answer me?”
“We’re fine.”
“Just fine?” She raises an eyebrow.
“I don’t know, honestly,” I tell her with a shrug as the bartender puts two drinks in front of us. I slide my money across the bar before Tara has a chance to pay for them.
“Well, he looked pissed tonight when I picked you up.”
I take a drink and smile around my straw. He was pissed. I had spent most of the day in bed. Then I’d gone down to the kitchen around five and made a frozen pizza. Kenton wasn’t around, so I went back upstairs after eating. I read for a while then sent an e-mail to Sid, who I couldn’t bring myself to call. Around eight, I started getting ready to go out, knowing that Tara would be there to pick me up at nine thirty.
When I walked out of my room a little after nine, Kenton was at the top of the stairs, his foot on the top landing. His head turned, our eyes locked, and my body started to vibrate from the look in his eyes. I wouldn’t even call it hunger; it was more than that. His eyes took me in and his jaw started ticking.
I knew what he saw; I had on a black, strapless dress that formed to my body like a second skin. Black pumps wrapped around my ankles, lifting me up on four-inch spiked heels. My hair was up on top of my head with little pieces out framing my face. I had on minimal makeup but dark-red lipstick.
“H—” I started to greet him when he looked up at me again, but he opened the door to his room and slammed it closed behind him. I stood there for a second, and then I flipped off his closed door and made my way downstairs. When Tara arrived at the house ten minutes later, Kenton came barreling downstairs like a caveman.
Before I could get out the door and close it behind me, he pulled me inside by my hand, shut the door, and then kissed me. It was not a sweet kiss; it was rough, aggressive, and it left me panting. When his mouth left mine, his eyes were heated and still glued to my lips.
“It didn’t come off,” he mumbled. I had no clue what he was talking about as his thumb swiped my bottom lip. “F*ck!” His eyes came to mine, and I was frozen in place; all I could do was stare at him. “Why won’t your goddamn lipstick come off?”
“It’s smudge-proof,” I whispered, shaking my head out of my daze. I took a step back, and his eyes narrowed.
“I don’t like it,” he growled.
“What?”
“Your hair, those heels, and that mouth.” He shook his head then ran a hand though his already messy hair. “I don’t like it.”
My eyes narrowed and I opened the door. “Too f*cking bad,” I snapped over my shoulder as I went down the porch steps. I opened the door to Tara’s car, getting in quickly and slamming it closed only to look up as he roared loud as f*ck as I put on my seatbelt.
“So, what did you do to piss him off?” Tara asks, bringing me out of my thoughts once again.
“I have no clue. That man is confusing. One minute, he’s kissing me, and the next, he’s complaining about my lipstick.”
“What’s wrong with your lipstick?” Derik asks, joining us at the bar.
“No clue,” I repeat, giving him and Stan a hug.
“Good, ’cause you look hot and your lipstick is hotter,” Stan says, leaning across the bar to call the bartender over. I give him a small smile before going back to my drink.
“So how’s Mr. Rough and Rugged?” Derik asks, taking the beer Stan is handing him.
“Who?” I ask.
“You know, the guy from the emergency room,” he clarifies.
“That’s who doesn’t like her lipstick,” Tara adds out of nowhere.
“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Stan says with a knowing smile.
“What’s wrong with my lipstick?” I run my fingers over my lips, wishing now that I hadn’t worn it.
“Girl, you are not stupid. I don’t have a penis, but even I know that, when a man sees a woman who looks like you wearing red lipstick that makes her lips look even fuller, all he can think about is shoving something between them.”
“You did not just say that.” I frown at her.
“It’s the truth, girly,” Derik says.
Images of some of the women I have seen in Vegas, the ones who sell themselves, flash through my head, all of them with their bright-red lips and bedroom eyes.
“I need to go to the bathroom.” I stand and don’t even wait for Tara when she calls for me. I run into the bathroom and franticly wipe at my lips, trying to get the color off.
“Autumn, stop it. What are you doing?”
Tears spring to my eyes and I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to fight them off. I wipe my mouth again and again, but the color won’t come off no matter what I do. Stupid smudge-proof lipstick!
“Autumn, please stop,” Tara says more quietly this time, her hands going to mine at my lips.
“I just want it off.”
“You know men will think the same thing whether you’re wearing lipstick or not. Some guys are a*sholes. You’re beautiful and sweet. Please don’t let something as stupid as lipstick f*ck with our night out.”
I take a second and let her words sink in, and I let out a long breath. “Thank you,” I tell her, pulling the tissue away from my mouth.
“We’re friends, and that’s what friends do.”
It feels good to be friends with a woman, someone who knows what I’m going though, someone I can talk to about the stupid things like I’ve seen women on TV talk to each other about.
“Now, are you ready to finish our drinks?” she asks, making me smile.
“Yes,” I say immediately. I look in the mirror, quickly making sure I look okay before following her out of the bathroom.
When we reach the bar, Derik and Stan have disappeared.
“Do you see them anywhere?” Tara asks, stretching to try to see over the crowd on the dance floor.
“No.” I look around, but there are so many people here that I can’t even move without bumping into someone. “Oh wait, I think I see them.” I grab Tara’s hand and start to lead her through the crowd to where I think I spotted Stan and Derik.
I look back over my shoulder when she stops dead in her tracks, causing me to teeter in my heels. I start to ask her what’s wrong, when she yells at the top of her lungs, “I love this f*cking song!” I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at her. The song is ‘Sexy and I Know It,’ and as much as people like the song, I really doubt anyone actually loves it.
When she starts dancing, I can’t hold it in and start to laugh. Her long, blond hair is flying all over. Her face is a mask of concentration and her hands almost look like she’s doing the hand jive.
“Dance with me!” She throws her hands in the air and spins around, closing her eyes.
I look around, seeing that everyone around me is dancing; no one is even watching what Tara’s doing. I start to move my hips a little, but apparently that’s not enough for Tara, who grabs both of my hands and starts spinning me around with her.
“Tara, stop!” I yell as we fly around in circles. My feet are barely keeping me upright.
“Stop being a party pooper and dance, bitch!” she yells back at me. Without warning, she lets my hands go and starts wiggling all over the place.
I laugh but join her wiggling, and then I bump my hip with hers when the song changes to Ke$ha’s ‘Your Love is My Drug.’ We start jumping around, throwing our hands in the air, and spinning in circles.
I’m laughing so hard and having so much fun that I don’t even realize that I’m in the middle of a giant crowd of people and they’ve all stopped to watch us. When the song ends, we both stop immediately and look around.
“Rock on!” Tara yells, making me lower my head and whisper a quiet, “Oh my God,” to myself. “You only live once. F*ck it,” Tara says, shrugging before grabbing my hand and pulling me with her to the bar.
“Hey, there’s Derik.” I point to the other side of the bar, where Derik and Stan are sitting, both of them with large smiles on their faces.
“You two looked—”
“Crazy, I know,” I cut him off, taking the bottle of water from his hand and drinking it in large gulps.
“I was gonna say hot, girl,” Derik corrects with a laugh. “Happiness is a good look on you, kid,” he tells me, pulling me into his side.
I take a breath, realizing that I am happy—really fricking happy.
“You want another drink?” Tara asks, calling the bartender over.
“I don’t know.” I look around at all the people who are having a good time and then out on the dance floor at all the people still dancing and laughing. Screw it. I want to live a little. “What are we drinking?”
“How about tequila?”
“Never had it.” I shrug, watching as the bartender makes his way towards us.
“Seriously?” Tara asks, looking at me with wide eyes.
“Seriously,” I repeat.
“Okay, you have to have a shot.”
“Why?”
“You are not an adult until you’ve had tequila,” she tells me, her voice all serious.
“Is this a rule?” I ask with a smile as she gives the bartender our order.
“One of many.” She looks at me and smiles. “Body shots are another, but we’ll get to that another time.”
“I’m never doing body shots.” I roll my eyes at her.
“A couple shots of tequila and you will do a whole lot you never thought you would.” She hands me a little glass of clear liquid and a wedge of lime. “Lick your hand,” she instructs. I do, and she picks up a saltshaker, dumping some onto my hand. “Lick it, shoot it, suck it.” She nods, and I shake my head but follow her directions.
The salt is grainy on my tongue as I close my eyes and shoot back the tequila. The cool liquid burns down my throat, making me gasp for air. My hand is suddenly shoved towards my face and I cram the whole piece of lime in my mouth, pressing it up against the roof of my mouth, and then I chew on it to try to get rid of some of the heat.
I open my eyes when I hear laughing, and I pull the lime out of my mouth and look around. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re not supposed to eat the whole lime.” Tara laughs and Stan shakes his head, smiling. “Watch me, and then you’re going to do it again.”
“Okay.” I watch as she does exactly what I did, but in the end, she just puts the fleshy part of the lime into her mouth.
“Voila,” she says, taking a bow. “Now, it’s your turn.”
“Okay, but this is the last one,” I tell her, taking the salt from her hand while she gets the tequila from the bartender. I do the shot just like she did, the burn filling my chest as I shove the lime between my lips. “Holy cow,” I breathe out.
“Now, let’s dance!” she shouts, and before I can tell her yes or no, she’s dragging me out onto the dance floor.
*
“Oh God, kill me now,” I moan, covering my face. My head feels like it’s going to explode, my stomach feels like a million bubbles have taken up home in it, and my body feels like it’s been run over by a sixteen-wheeler.
“Go back to sleep,” a male voice that sounds like Kenton’s says and my body goes rigid.
Praying I’m wrong, I peek out from between my fingers. Nope, not wrong. What the hell happened last night?
“What are you doing here?” I ask, not sure I want to know, seeing how I’m wearing nothing but a sheet, his body is naked at least from the waist up, and his arm is draped across my stomach, his frame plastered to the length of mine.
“Sleep.” He squeezes my waist and my stomach slightly contracts.
I try to remember last night, but my brain is coming up with nothing. My whole night is blank after my second shot of tequila.
“Stop thinking and sleep.”
“I have to get up,” I tell him, trying to lift his giant arm. My body feels so weak that I stop trying after a couple of seconds.
“You were up all night. You just went to bed two hours ago. You need to sleep. I need to sleep, so stop moving around.”
My eyes widen when I realize that his very evident erection is pressed up against my leg. “I can’t remember anything,” I tell him, covering my face.
“Seeing how you drank a shit-ton of tequila last night, that’s not surprising,” he mumbles sleepily.
“Please don’t say that word.” I shake my head. Just the thought of that drink alone has my body ready to revolt. “How did I get home?”
“I’ll tell you every embarrassing detail from the time you texted me until now when we wake up later.”
“Oh God, I texted you?” I groan.
“You did. Now, go to sleep.”
“I feel sick.”
“You have nothing left if your stomach,” he says on a sigh.
“What do you mean?”
“You were sick all night.”
“This just keeps getting better and better,” I whisper.
“Sleep, babe,” he says quietly as I feel his lips against the bare skin of my shoulder; the touch has my pulse picking up.
“Why am I naked?” I ask, concentrating on the feeling between my legs. I sigh in relief when I don’t feel any tenderness or anything that would lead me to believe I did anything stupider than drink too much and send drunken texts.
“You were sick and I put you in the shower last night. I tried to give you a shirt, but you wouldn’t take it.”
“Oh,” I say, squeezing my eyes closed.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t see anything. Much,” he says quietly, and I can hear a smile in his voice.
“I’m never drinking again.”
“Why?” he asks, sounding surprised. “You had a good time. You just don’t know your limit. I will be having a talk with Tara. No way should she have given you shots of tequila on your first night out drinking.”
“You are not talking with Tara.” I shake my head, imagining him talking to her. I can see it now—it would be a lot of yelling and none of it nice.
“We’ll talk about it later. Right now, we’re going to sleep, and then later, we’re going to my Aunt Viv’s house for dinner.”
“Your aunt?” I shake my head in disbelief.
“Yep, my aunt.”
“How in the hell does this stuff happen to me?” I question as my stomach gurgles loudly.
“You’ll be okay. You had some Tums a little while ago.” He squeezes my side, and I’m pretty sure my life is like a really bad Lifetime movie.
“You can go to your room,” I tell him after a few minutes.
“No, I’m comfortable.”
“I’m not,” I whine.
“Go to sleep, Autumn.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.” He squeezes me again. “Close your eyes and go to sleep or I will give you something that will put you to sleep.”
“You didn’t just say that.”
“Sleep,” he growls.
“Can you at least move your arm so I can move?” I pull the sheet up higher on my chest, lifting my head slightly to see if I can spot a shirt anywhere near me.
“Jesus, you’re a pain in my ass.” He flings his arm behind him and pulls a piece of fabric from behind his back.
“Why do you have this?” I ask when I see that it’s a shirt.
“I just told you. I tried to put it on you last night, but you refused.”
“Oh,” I whisper, slipping the shirt on over my head and then shimmying it down under the sheet.
“Now, lay your ass down and go to sleep.” He tugs me back onto the bed, not giving me a choice.
I turn my back to him and try to scoot away, but it feels like it takes all of my energy to move an inch. I close my eyes as he pulls me into him. My ass curves into his hips, his arm wraps around my waist, and his bicep slides under my head like a pillow. I try not to think about how it makes me feel to be so close to him. I try to tell myself that I don’t feel incredibly safe and comfortable. Before I can convince myself that I hate how I feel, I fall asleep.
I wake up slowly and take notice that I don’t feel the warmth of Kenton behind me, and I open my eyes, wondering if I dreamt the whole thing. I lift my head slightly and look at the clock. “Shit,” I whisper, seeing that it’s eleven already. I take a deep breath and smell Kenton’s cologne. I lift some of my hair to my nose. The smell is so strong that my stomach flips over.
I take my time sitting up on the side of the bed, and I see that a glass full of water, two Tylenols, and a few Tums have been set on the nightstand. I don’t want to think that it’s sweet that he thought about how I would feel when I woke up and made sure to leave them where I would find them before I got out of bed, but I can’t stop thinking about it as I take the pills.
I get out of bed and look down at myself, noticing that I’m not wearing one of my shirts, but a shirt I’m sure belongs to him. I walk to the dresser and get a pair of panties and a bra before going to the closet and grabbing a pair of shorts, a tank top, and an oversized sweater. I open my bedroom door, looking both ways before running across the hall to the bathroom.
Once inside, I quietly shut the door and turn to look in the mirror. I cover my mouth with my hand when I see myself. My hair is sticking out all over my head. My eye makeup is smeared around my eyes and down my cheeks, and my freckles stand out due to how pale I look.
“Kill me now,” I whisper to my refection as I grab a couple of makeup remover cloths from the drawer and wipe my face. When I’m done, I start the shower and step inside. I look down when I feel something soggy under my feet. My dress from last night is on the shower floor, sopping wet, so I pick it up and ring it out before tossing it over the shower rail.
I don’t know what happened last night, and I can’t help but be thankful I don’t remember anything. I can only imagine the kind of fool I made out of myself while drunk. I get out of the shower and quickly get dressed before french braiding my hair and putting on some mascara, blush, and lip gloss.
As I’m picking up my clothes from the floor, my eye catches my cell phone sitting on the back of the toilet. I pick it up, looking at the black screen, afraid to click it on. I say a silent prayer that I didn’t actually text Kenton last night and that he was just joking when he told me what I’d done. I press the round button before sliding my finger across the screen.
The picture that is now my background has me almost dropping the phone into the toilet. I’m lying across the bar at the club we were at with my dress up around my waist. A guy has his back to the camera and his upper body is bent over me, his face near my stomach.
“Please, no,” I whisper, and my shaky fingers press the icon for my text messages. As soon as the screen changes, texts between Kenton and me pop up. “No, no, no…” I chant, reading the messages.
Me: Why do you hav to so hot?
Kenton: Where are you?
Me: da clubs lol
Kenton: What club?
Me: I wants to kis you all ovr
Kenton: Dammit, tell me where you are.
Me: I asj Tara shesnice.
Kenton: I’m on my way.
Me: howz that
Me: Yoi kisz god
Kenton: Go to the bar and ask for water.
Me: Tequeda is like watber
Kenton: Baby, I need you to find somewhere to sit down until I get there.
Me: Sitty with a nicews guy
Kenton: Where’s Tara?
Me: herre
Kenton: Parking now.
I close my eyes and bite the inside of my cheek hard, trying not to cry from embarrassment. I’m never drinking again.