“Hey!” she said, pushing his chest. “Stop!”
“It’s fine,” he said, not letting go. “What’s your name?”
Patrick was done. He reached over a couple and grabbed Bow Tie’s shoulder.
“What the—” Bow Tie’s hands flew off Cheryl. “Who are you?”
“Forget who I am. Get off the yacht before I throw you over the side.”
“Wh-What? Why?”
Patrick squeezed until he felt Bow Tie’s bones shift under his fingers. “For being a fucking scumbag. Now, go.”
He released Bow Tie, who scurried for the dock without a backward glance.
“Dog,” Patrick muttered. He was going to have a word with Derek about never inviting that prick anywhere again.
“Pat-trick?”
Cheryl. He looked down to see her smiling at him. The force of her beauty hit like a truck. She was gorgeous. Gorgeous and drunk. Her lipstick had smudged beyond the border of her mouth, and her dark eyes were glazed. “Hey,” he said. “How are you?”
Her smile got wider. “Fiiiiine.”
All thoughts of talking about their relationship flew right out of his head.
“Are you okay?” He took her tiny hand and found it was burning hot. “How much have you had to drink?”
“I dunnnow,” she said, moving closer. “How much’ve you had to drink?”
Christ, her perfume. Like cream and spice and pussy. It always stayed on his clothes for days after they hung out, driving him insane. “Not that much. Want me to get you some water?”
“No.” She prodded his chest. “Where’s that other lady?”
“Huh?”
“That lady.” She poked him again. “Your friendddd with the long hair.”
His stomach dropped. Did she mean Lola? Had she cared about that? “Oh, her. She, uh, had to go.”
Cheryl’s fierce expression vanished and she flung her arms around him. “Oh cool. That’s sooo cool!”
Her obvious relief combined with the euphoria that hit whenever she touched him, turning his blood electric. He hugged her and she made a happy sound into his chest.
“I’m so glad you’re still here, Pat-trick…”
“Me too.”
He didn’t know if Beth’s plan had worked, but it was something to know Cheryl cared he wasn’t with Lola. They swayed together as one song bled into another. Part of him wanted to stay this way, but other, less innocent parts were waking up. Parts he didn’t want to encourage while Cheryl was this drunk. He gently eased her from his body. “Do you want to go sit down for a bit? Where’s Eden?”
Cheryl made a face. “She left. She wanned me to come home but I didn’t wanna come home… I wanned to make sure… You’re here by yourself? You’re not… where’s that other lady?”
Patrick fought back a smile. “She’s gone.”
“Good. Want to go get a… driiink?” Cheryl tilted to look up at him and almost fell backward. He grabbed her around the waist.
“You’re shitfaced, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” Cheryl rubbed her cheek against his shirt front. “Mmm. I’m so glad you’re hereeeeee, Patty-Bear.”
