Instead, it was the coach from the football team. Aw, hell. He only knew me because I'd unintentionally put one of his players out of commission for the rest of the season.
"Who are you here with?"
"My cousin." I swallowed nervously.
He peered around me at Beth and chuckled. "She doesn't look like your cousin."
"Not her." I ground my teeth together. "She's just… a friend."
Behind him, my cousin waved frantically.
"Look, I gotta run. My date needs me." Geez, it wasn't like I was getting secret plays from Beth or anything. I turned and gave her hand a quick squeeze. "It was fun."
She gave me a sad nod, and I walked away.
When I looked back, she was gone.
The sound of the alarm jolted me out of the dream. Why the hell was I dreaming about that now? I smacked the alarm clock with my hand and peeked over at Beth. She was sleeping like the dead, too beautiful for her own good, and I was horny as hell from that damn dream. I shouldn't have walked away. I should have gotten her number. Not that it would have changed a damn thing. People didn't date in high school and then get married right away anymore. At the time, I'd still believed in love at first sight. Hell, I'd thought it had been love; the rest of the memory was painful as hell. My therapist said my mind had somehow pushed the rest of the night out of my consciousness; he'd said accidents had a way of doing that. I was protecting myself. But from what? I wasn't sure.
When I'd woken up in the hospital, I was changed — everything had changed. My parents had said I wasn't the same, but I had no idea why. It had made me even more paranoid about pleasing them, about getting things right. Getting my career right.
Speaking of careers, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and was rewarded with a low-battery signal. I got up to grab my bag then remembered that I didn't have a bag. The same checked bag that had yet to appear.
My guess was that Grandma was holding it hostage. Or maybe Jake and Travis. Those bastards must have known. And how the hell did the woman have this planned a month ahead of time? A month ago I was saying yes to her scheme with Char and Jake.
A light bulb flickered on in the darkness of my brain.
I'd said yes.
That's where I'd gone wrong. I should have stayed far, far away.
Russia. I should have moved to Russia.
"Beth." I nudged her a bit.
She was lying on her stomach, wearing the outfit from the night before. She stretched, her shirt inching up on her body, exposing her flat stomach and a slight scar where her appendix had obviously been.
She moaned again and lifted her arms high above her head.
The shirt followed.
So did my eyes.
I blinked a few times, fascinated with how smooth her skin looked. I wanted to touch it — to hell with that, I wanted to lick it. Had I licked it the other night?
"Jace.
Her voice was low, sexy as hell, raspy. Shit, I was in trouble.
"What?"
"Do we have to go to couples' therapy?"
"Aw, sweetheart, backing out already? Where's your balls?"
"I don't want balls." She yawned. "I just want a damn charge. I have girl parts. I talk a big game. I use big words. Right now, I want a big-ass coffee and a big sleep."
"Stop saying big."