Page 23 of Wild Promise

“Or maybe, since neither of you are each other’s boss, and it’s not that big a deal, neither of you would have to quit.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have to quit because they’d probably fire my ass.”

“God, Meli, no one’s firing you. You’re the best employee they’ve got.”

Despite being more than a slight exaggeration, her argument was compelling.

I worked damn hard. Harder than almost all my coworkers. Especially Becky. I didn’t deserve to be fired for a kiss. Or even a date. Hell, Zane and I could screw six ways from Sunday, and I’d still be the most qualified candidate for promotion.

Or maybe that was just the liquor talking because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop imagining exactly that. Screwing him. Hard.

Shit. I might be a little wasted.

“I need that promotion more than anything,” I said, my words barely slurring. “What if a date isn’t worth the risk?”

“But what if it is?” Avery’s eyes sparkled.

I reached across the table, grabbed her last shot, and downed it before I could think too hard about the answer. My limbs were loose, lips numb and tingly, and my brain was full of Zane I-want-him-to-want-me Alexander.

“That’s the part that scares me the most,” I admitted, my head starting to spin. “I’m terrified he’ll be totally worth the risk.”

“Why would that scare you?”

“Because…I don’t think he’s taken anything seriously in all his life. What if I’m not worth it for him? He’s the party and screw around type, not the stick around type. I’m not foolish enough to believe I’m the one who’ll change him.”

She shook her head and poured me another beer.

Things unraveled a little after that. More men made ridiculous advances. Avery fended them all off, but it got harder for her the more alcohol we consumed.

And damn, we consumed a lot.

Miraculously, neither of us threw up on the cab ride home, and I almost made it to my front door without falling.

On shaky legs, I made my way inside, using the wall for balance as I kicked off my heels and wobbled toward my room. I’d successfully made it to the stairs when I ran into my dad, both of us swaying on our feet.

At least he had a valid medical excuse.

“Hey, you’re up,” I stammered, trying hard to look sober.

“Got hungry.” He raised his peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Looks good.”

“You’re home late.” The sternness in his voice was the kind that usually came with a lecture. Which honestly seemed out of place considering our circumstances. And the fact that I was a twenty-seven-year-old grown-ass woman.

Still, my stomach twisted at the thought of disappointing him. “I had some…stuff happen at work…” I slurred. “Avery took me out to Rusty’s.”

He grunted and started shuffling toward his room.

“Good night,” I whispered, unsure if he even cared to hear it.

But he paused at his door. “G’night, Meli. Don’t forget water and ibuprofen.”

With a wide smile stuck on my face, I staggered to my room, somehow managing to stumble out of my skirt and wrestle my bra from under my sweater before landing in a heap on my bed.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, my phone pinged, and I giggled. The damn thing was still in my hand.

An unknown number showed on my screen. I opened the text anyway.