“Why do you care?”
Jennifer curled her finger under his chin, forcing him to look at her. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Not enough to deal with you tonight.”
“Don’t be dumb, Slade,” she said sharply. “You and I both know no one can make you feel like I do.”
He huffed a laugh. “If you mean tired and cranky, you’re right. No one else can.”
Jennifer leaned into him as though she couldn’t feel the negative energy that had amped up a few hundred degrees since she arrived. She pressed her lips to his neck as though she had every right to do so.
And damn it all to hell, it actually felt good. Sure, he wanted to vomit becauseshewas the one doing it, but he couldn’t deny his body’s reaction.
“Don’t be mean.” She licked her way up to his ear, her voice lowering to a soft, sultry whisper. “I’m just what you need tonight. No strings. Just some wild, crazy-hot sex. One last hurrah, as they say.”
He pulled back. “I’m not the one gettin’ married.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Positive.” Could she not fucking read? The congratulations banner on the wall had Brantley’s and Reese’s names, not his.
Her eyes shifted toward the banner and lingered there momentarily before she looked at him again. Her shoulders relaxed. “That doesn’t change anything. One night would be good for you. I want to make sure you don’t forget how good we are together.”
When she went to kiss his neck again, he nearly fell off the stool, attempting to put distance between them. He was tempted to push her away, but even intoxicated, he couldn’t bring himself to put his hands on a woman in anger. And he was getting angry. That tended to happen when she was near. The woman had shattered his entire world—not to mention his heart—when she screwed his brother. Never mind the fact she’d slept with half a dozen other guys while they were married. Finding her in bed with Spencer had put the nail in that coffin.
“Buy me a drink, Slade,” she said, ignoring his growing frustration. “We can celebrate together.”
“Open bar, you can get your own fuckin’ drink.”
“Don’t be like that, baby,” she crooned.
He met her gaze and held it for a moment, seeking any sort of old feelings threatening to well up and turn an already disappointing night into something tolerable. Only there weren’t any old feelings there. Not love, not hate. He felt nothing for the woman who hadn’t batted an eyelash when she trampled all over his heart and then danced around the broken pieces.
“You should probably go find Spencer,” he told her.
“He’s not here.”
“Oh, Jesus.” He shrugged her off.
“I’m kidding.” Jennifer put her arm around him, attempting to pull him back toward her. “I’m not here for Spencer. I’m here for you.”
“I told you, I’m not the one gettin’ married.”
“But you could be,” she said, that familiar whine in her tone. “And the thought of losing you forever … I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
The bartender finally arrived with another drink, and Slade didn’t waste time. He downed it in two gulps, seeking that blessed numbness that came from a fifth of whiskey, which he was well on his way to finishing off. His desire to get shitfaced had nothing to do with Jennifer and everything to do with Atticus and Carson.
Last night, Slade had intended to have a heart-to-heart with Atticus. He’d wanted to tell him that he wasn’t exactly comfortable with Atticus wanting to see Carson. Only Atticus hadn’t been home when Slade got there. His truck was there, but the man hadn’t been. He then spent far too many hours waiting up for Atticus, only to learn that he’d gone out with Carson. To dinner. A fucking date, of all things.
And now they were sitting together, all cozy and shit.
“What’s wrong?” Jennifer asked. “And don’t tell me I’m the one who pissed you off. You were glowering into that glass when I walked up.”
“Nothin’,” he hissed, tapping the bar for another drink.
“Coulda fooled me.”
Slade glared at the woman he’d once thought he would spend the rest of his life with and wondered just how much whiskey he would need to ingest to tolerate her for one night. His gaze shifted to the top shelf behind the bar, and he realized they didn’t have enough on hand to make it even a possibility.
