“My papa taught me that respect is earned. When you do the same, I will pour you a drink, but this the last. Blow off steam another way because this isn’t going to fix your white-girl problems.”
“White-girl problems?” I laugh loudly. “Judgmental much?”
“I can bet my night’s wages you’re heartbroken over a man. Probably someone who you can’t have.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I don’t.” Adriel leans in, his cleanly shaved face is only inches away from mine. He smells nice, fresh shower scent with a dash of some masculine aftershave. “But I know what it’s like to be in love with a woman you can’t have, and I made the same mistake as you. So, do yourself a favor and sober the hell up.”
“Do you talk this way to all women?”
“No, just the ones with sticks up their asses.”
I laugh, pointing my finger. “If there were anything up my ass, it wouldn’t be a stick. You know what, you’re fired. Fuck you! And while you’re at it, go to hell.”
His arrogant grin doesn’t budge. Ignoring me, he moves toward the other guests waiting to be served.
I don’t know how long I’m watching him for, fascinated by the way he moves around the bar, yet still reeling at his disrespectful tone and blatant move to ignore me. The asshole deserves to be fired. Serves him right for not serving me. Since he clearly didn’t listen, I need to find security and make this happen.
But I need something hard, now.
The second he turns away, I lean forward, grab the bottle of tequila behind the bar and pour it freely into my glass. Quickly, I down the contents in one go, my throat burning from the remnants.
Holy fuck! That was strong.
My name’s being called, people around me stopping by to chat. But I’m in a daze while nodding my head yet fixated on Adriel at the end of the bar once again. He’s laughing, chatting with some other women, until he glances sideways, and our eyes meet. I want to yell at him to come back, tell him off for accusing me of having white-girl problems, but my words and emotions fall flat.
The weight of my body begins to feel heavy as I peel myself away from the bar and attempt to walk toward my bedroom. The alcohol begins its long-awaited journey, my limbs becoming flimsy, and my steps harder to take. Suddenly, Morgan and her careless words become an afterthought, and so does Adriel with his stupid assumption of me.
People stop me along the way to say hello, some laugh as I walk by, and with every step I take, my vision begins to weave in and out.
Then the only voice I can hear is Mama Valentino.
“Be careful what you wish for. Your wish may turn into a nightmare you can never let go of.”
I wish for Noah.
I wish to be the only woman he desires.
The only woman he loves.
I wish to be everything Morgan is and has.
Because if that comes true, if by some miracle it happens on this disastrous night, Noah Mason will be all mine, and nothing will ever make me let him go.
Nothing in the entire world.
A hand wraps around my waist, stopping me from tumbling to the ground. My stomach contracts, erupting into a fit of laughter. My life’s a fucking joke. The more I laugh, the harder it becomes to stop until the gentle brush of lips caresses my bare shoulder.
My breathing hitches, inviting the warm sensation gracing my skin. I close my eyes, feeling his breath against my ear. “Shhh…” he whispers, gently running his mouth along my neck.
My hand reaches behind, bringing his body closer to mine. I no longer care about me or whatever will happen tonight. This kiss has erased every ounce of pain weighing me down.
One kiss from a stranger.
“Take me,” I beg, pleading for life. “Just take me.”
The pillow lays soft beneath my head. The unusually warm fall air graces my face as the sun gently seeps into the bedroom, splashing against the walls.