Page 14 of The Rivalry

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The hotel bar made the most sense. I’d force Jeremy to drink a gallon of water, make sure he was good, and then see if Kayla would meet me downstairs. I’d figure out how to cross the cock-blocking drunk-in-my-room bridge if I came to it.

My phone buzzed with an incoming text. Brody, asking my ETA. I’d given him my number during the planning of Dave’s bachelor party.

Me: Be there in a few.

Brody: Can u hurry? He’s being an asshole.

I didn’t have a pen to leave a note on a napkin for Kayla, and I wasn’t about to go through her purse for one. She had my number in her phone. If I didn’t find her on my way out, I felt confident she’d text me and I could explain what happened. I kicked myself. I should have gotten her number, rather than let her ask for mine. Usually I was more proactive, but she’d thrown me way off my game.

A final scan of the ballroom turned up empty for the blonde I’d been unable to take my eyes off all night. She was short, though. Kayla could be on the dance floor and I was missing her because the crowd was thick and the room was dark, but I couldn’t spare any more time looking.

When my friend Darius got hammered, not only was he unable to hold his liquor, he turned into a toddler. He was attracted to the most shiny and dangerous thing in the room, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him for a moment. My gut told me this Jeremy kid was the same way.

I scored a water bottle from the bar, and there was a tiny five-gallon trashcan by the entryway of the banquet room which I snagged. I felt bad taking it, but I was a desperate guy. I knew firsthand that puke was a smell that lingered, even when you had your carpets shampooed.

“What took you so long?” Brody demanded when I crossed the parking lot. It was dark outside now, but it was sweltering. The bugs were louder. My rental shoes were uncomfortable.

Everything irritated me. Because I was leaving when I didn’t want to. I hadn’t even said goodbye to Dave or Marcy. I really needed to do that.

Worse, I was worried Kayla was going to think I was blowing her off.

“I gotta go back,” I said.

“Fuck that.” Brody had shed his jacket, and sweat trickled down from his temple. “My girlfriend’s pissed I left her alone in there. She doesn’t know anyone.”

“I didn’t say goodbye to Dave.”

“It’s cool. I’ll tell him.” He gestured to the passenger seat of my car where Jeremy stared at his phone screen with an idiotic grin plastered on his face. “Thanks, Jay.” Brody’s voice was sincere. “Gotta be honest . . . I thought you’d have too big of an ego to even come to this thing. I’m glad I was wrong. Good luck this year.”

Bugs swarmed under the lights illuminating the parking lot, and before I could say anything, Brody took off, disappearing toward the country club’s entrance. I frowned. What the hell was that supposed to mean? I did my best to balance my talent with humility. To try to be confident without being cocky.

I climbed into the driver’s seat and glanced over at my passenger. Jeremy was still smiling like a fool, only now he wasn’t staring at his phone. His glassy eyes blinked at me.

“This is for you.” I shoved the trashcan into his lap. “Drink this.” I opened the water bottle and put it in his hand.

He stared down into the garbage bin like it was a bottomless pit. “I feel bad. I didn’t get you anything.”

A humorless laugh escaped from me. “That’s okay. How are you? How you feeling?”

“Awesome.” He beamed a smile. “Everything is spinning.”

“Great. If it starts feeling less awesome, aim for the can, dude.” I put my seatbelt on and started the car, cranking up the AC.

“Where are we going?” he asked. “Let’s go find some girls.”

I sighed as I pulled out of the parking spot and shifted into drive. “We’re going to the hotel, Jeremy. You’re going to sober up, and hopefully your drunk ass hasn’t ruined my chances.”

“With who?”

I wasn’t the type to talk about girls, but what was the likelihood he’d remember this convo tomorrow? “One of the bridesmaids.”

He slapped his hands onto both the console and the doorframe like the car was moving too fast for him. “Which one?”

“Kayla.”

“Fuck, the tiny blonde?” His head lolled forward. Was his neck suddenly made of jelly? “She’s so hot.”

Yeah, I was aware. Not just hot, but funny, and smart, too.

“I’d hit that,” he added. Only it was barely coherent, and made me want to shove his head in the trashcan.

“You’re going to be hating life tomorrow, Jeremy.”


Tags: Nikki Sloane Romance