But… that didn’t bother me.
Not even the slightest.
I lay there in shock, panting as I stared in awe at the man that’d just broken me.
Then, the little flashbacks I’d been having finally clicked.
He groaned, fell to his side, and then caught me up around the waist and dragged me toward him, dirty body and all.
“Bain,” I whispered when I could finally catch my breath.
“Yeah?” he rasped.
God, he sounded sexy and dreamy… and familiar.
I licked my lips as I tried to scrounge up the courage to ask him what I needed to ask him next.
“What were you doing the night before you went to jail?” I asked carefully.
There was a long, drawn-out pause that went on for so long that it became uncomfortable.
“Drinking,” he finally answered. “At least, part of the night.”
I closed my eyes as I recalled the bar that I’d gone to, the one that I’d hoped would help me forget everything. And a certain someone that was leaving my life, that was my only lifeline to the land of happiness and sunshine.
“Drinking.” I paused. “Did you happen to be drinking somewhere that was in town?”
There was a long pause, and then, “No. I went out of town. Two towns over, actually. Wh…”
He trailed off as, I assumed, things started to click with him, too.
“Son of a bitch.” His forehead dropped to the pillow, and I could feel it pressing into my neck as it all started to make sense.
“We were both drunk off our asses,” I recounted. “But how does one end up at the same freakin’ bar when we both had designated drivers?”
“My dad was my designated driver,” he reported.
“Your mom was mine,” I whispered.
“I feel like we’ve been played,” I finally said. “Did they think that was going to happen?”
“No.” He paused. “What they might’ve thought was that we would be safe there together.”
“We were safe.” I hesitated. “And drunk. And apparently, we make decisions when we’re drunk that don’t necessarily line up with our sober selves.”
“Our drunk selves and our sober selves are pretty congruent,” he grumbled directly into my ear. “Our drunk selves just have more guts than our sober selves. I wanted to do that for so long that it’s kind of uncomfortable to admit to.”
I snorted, turned, and likely rubbed his release all over his thighs when I did.
He didn’t complain.
Instead, he hauled me in closer, stared directly into my eyes and said, “I fuckin’ hate this from the bottom of my heart… but I have to go somewhere.”
I threw my head back and laughed.
He groaned, dropped his head to my chest and then moved his head back and forth.
He did it for so long that I had to stop him with a hand on his forehead.
“What are you doing, you weirdo?” I giggled.
“Memorizing this so I can never forget it,” he grumbled. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Fuck, I wish I’d never said yes to going in tonight so I could learn both shifts.”
“Helping whom?” I wondered as I pushed him away from my boobs—which he’d been motorboating still—and rolled out of the bed.
“Not helping. Working. I’m starting my new job at one of the chemical plants my father is working at on Monday. I had them reschedule my start date after all of the things happening with Bart. But the big boss wants to see which crew I’ll fit with best and which one I like best. And then he’ll allow me to choose if both are good fits for me.”
The sheets were a lost cause.
After Bain left, I’d change them, then shower.
I heard him groan behind me as he watched me start to take the sheets off the bed.
I used one corner to clean myself off before he finally got up and nearly stumbled.
His pants were still around his ankles.
I burst out laughing, causing him to roll his eyes and say, “I was in a fuckin’ hurry, okay?”
I jerked my chin toward his corner and said, “Take that off, will you?” He did, and I walked with the sheets to the laundry room, started the load, then walked back. “You’re allowed to work and all… but you remember you’re rich, right? You don’t have to?”
He was fully dressed by the time I got there.
“I know. But I’m bored as hell.” He eyed me up and down, grinned, then said, “I’ll pick up some condoms on my way back.”
I felt my face flush. “It might be too late for that.”
His eyes gleamed as he said, “Well, darn.”
CHAPTER 15
Don’t blame online shopping, you also don’t look exactly like your profile picture.
-Luce’s secret thoughts
LUCE
“I have to go,” he grumbled darkly, pissed as hell despite the way he’d just rocked my world.
“It’s not like you need the money,” I teased.
He was going to work of all places. Who knew?
The weird thing was, Braxton would’ve died rather than go to work if he didn’t have to. The thing was, he did have to, and he didn’t get the option of not working since he was bad with money.