I started it up and quickly stripped. Another large gulp, braced myself, and I turned my back to the mirror. I glanced over my shoulder and tried not to cry. The word “WHORE” had been branded into my back, stretching all the way from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. It had been two years since I had been carved into, but it was still unconditionally noticeable.
I choked on a sob and quickly rushed into the shower, racing against the memories.
A half hour later and half my bottle downed, I wobbled from the shower, smelling of Brent’s shampoo, sandalwood soap, and tequila. I threw on a long t-shirt and grabbed my junk and exited the bathroom. I stumbled to a stop.
Brent was sitting on the floor outside the door with a goodly portion of his own bottle gone. He stared up at me with so much hurt shining from his eyes that I had to touch him. That’s what happens when you love someone, even after they’ve hurt you. I juggled my bottle, and ran my fingers through his curls and his hand wrapped around my ankle. He ran it slowly up and down my bare skin.
I don’t know how long we remained that way, lost in our own hurt, but eventually he slurred, “Tomorrow we’re flying down to Orlando. We’re going to be there awhile working on the cruise line’s Sensations security problems. You’re coming with us.”
“Am I now? You sure are getting bossy in your old age.” I grinned and tugged on his hair, only faltering slightly on my feet.Whew. Yep. It was official. I was sloshed.
“Please don’t argue about this.” He braced a shoulder against the wall and slowly slid up it. I wasn’t in any shape to help him, so he was on his own. After his third attempt, he made it completely upright.
“Fine. I’ll go. I won’t even argue since I’m not sure what my plans are yet.” I took a drink. Or maybe I didn’t. I placed my bottle in front of one eye and closed the other. Yessir. It had gotten lower.
“And your sleeping in my bed tonight,” he ordered hoarsely, taking a gulp of his own alcohol.
I laughed. It sounded a little bitter. “I wouldn’t want to trip over any of Supermodel’s shoes that she might have left lying around. No-o-o, thank you. I’m sleeping on the couch.”
I headed in the direction I thought the torn apart room was in. Brent tripped right along with me and I thought I heard him mutter, “No woman’s ever been here. Other than Ally, anyway.”
We came along a chef’s delight of a kitchen. Ally and all three men were sitting around the table talking. I stubbed my toe when I stopped. It didn’t hurt so much. I waved with my bottle. “Nighty night, Ally. Night, Stash. Night, Zane.” I paused and breathed deeply. “Night, Cole.” He sure was pretty. And he looked darn serious. Did the man even know how to have fun?
Oh. Wait.He sure did.I tried not to leer.
I turned to go – thinking that was the safest option - and bumped in to Brent who was trying to steady himself as he took another drink.Jeez.He brought the whisky from his lips to swing next to his hip and I bent at the waist getting a good view point from down here. Boy howdy, he had drunk a lot of it. He swayed, staring down at me.
Stash chuckled. “You two all right?”
“Yep,” we answered at the same time.
Brent punched me in the arm first. “Jinx. You owe me a soda.”
“Not fair! My hands are full,” I complained.
“Water might be a good idea,” Cole offered dryly and I raised my eyebrows at him. Or at least I think I did. He stated seriously, “Ember, we need to talk sometime.”
“Nope. No talkin’. You know her all you need to.” Brent pointed his bottle at him. “And don’t be expectin’ to know her that way again.”
“Hush,” I told him, leaning in close. “You aren’t bein’ very nice.” I paused, remembering where I had been going. “I need to find the couch.”
He stumbled from standing still. Then grinned.
I gaped.
Oh, he was very pretty, too.
Ally cleared her throat. “The couch is the other way.” She pointed the way we had come from.
Brent went to lean against the door, misjudged, and knocked his knee into it instead. Good.
“I told you I wanted the darn couch!” I knocked his head with my bottle and he only smiled like the cat that ate the canary. “Jerk.”
I started walking, but Ally hollered, “Honey, the other way!”
“Right. Right.” I pivoted and saluted them before going in the opposite direction. I knew I hadn’t passed that darn kitchen on my way to the bathroom the first time around.
“Fine. You can sleep on the couch,” Brent grumbled, bumping into the wall as we went.
