Page 122 of Habits

“I’m always cheerful,” I protest, pouting.

He laughs at me. “You’re so cute when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not d-drunk.” I hiccup. “I never get drunk.”

Patrick shakes his head, but the smile remains on his face. “If you say so.”

We’re dancing, or more like swaying, on the make-shift dance floor Maddy had the hockey players create in the middle of her living room.

Patrick’s arms are around my waist, holding me close to his hard body with mine around his neck. Closing my eyes for a second, I press my forehead against his chest, his spicy scent surrounding me.

It’s nice. Having his arms around me. Feeling the warmth of his body.

His hand slides up and down my back, shivers going through my skin.

I lift my head and find his dark eyes looking at me.

So intense.

So hot.

He wants me.

He really wants me.

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips, and I don’t wait a second longer. Rising onto the tips of my toes, my fingers dig into the skin of his neck, pulling him down. Our lips touch, and I lose myself in the feel of his mouth on mine.

The spark of surprise is soon lost, and his mouth is attacking mine.

Clumsy, eager, open-mouthed kisses.

I return them with the same fervor, enjoying the feel of his hands roaming my body.

After a while, we break our kiss. Our breathing is hard, labored. His forehead presses against mine, his warm breath tickling my skin.

“Want to go up?”

I don’t even think about it; I just nod.

* * *

The sound of the door opening and closing wakes me up. Groaning softly, my hand lifts to massage my throbbing forehead.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Why does my head hurt so much?

Where am I?

Shifting, I hear the sheets rustle under my bare skin. Why am I naked? My eyes fly open, but then swiftly shut when they’re assaulted by the light of the bedside lamp.

So bright.

Groaning in pain, I take a few deep breaths, trying to hold it at bay. The second time, I open my eyes much slower, letting them adjust. It’s not even that bright, but my head hurts nevertheless. My mouth is dry, but even the thought of drinking water makes my stomach turn.

The bottle with clear liquid flashes in my mind. Tequila. I’d been drinking tequila.

Lots and lots of tequila because …

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