Page 59 of A Better Place

“Everything.” I sigh and drop my head down on the table, forehead first. I’m so tired, so I close my eyes, just for a bit. When I open them, I roll my head to the side and am immediately hit with the most beautiful blue eyes, enigmatic smile, broad shoulders, sexy tattoos, and lickable face I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Lickable face, huh?” the person with the pretty blue eyes says.

Apparently. I said some of that out loud? Maybe I shouldn’t have had that last sip. That’s what did me in.

“Uh-huh. I just wanna lick his scruff. And his tattoos. Hey, you know what? He looks a lot like you. I licked him once because I couldn’t help myself. You could be his twin.” I reach out and tap the guy’s nose with my fore finger.

He grabs my hand and holds it in his much larger one.

It feels nice. Safe.

“He does, does he? Seems like a pretty lucky guy.”

“He isn’t. He thinks I’m worth it. He tells me I’m beautiful. But I’m not. I’m not what he needs.”

“You’re everything he needs,” the mystery guy tells me.

“You’re sweet,” I say, reaching up a hand and running my fingers through his scruff. “And scruffy. I used to not like scruff, but now it’s what I dream about.”

“Scruff?”

“And the man under the scruff,” I say. My eyelids go heavy again, so I lay my head down and press my cheek against the tabletop, the temperature cooling my heated skin.

“How much did she have to drink?” mystery guy asks, his voice deep and rough but sexy as all hell.

“Not nearly as much as the rest of us,” Tess says.

“She doesn’t drink. Like ever.”

“Whoops,” Lauren says.

And the last thing I remember is being lifted like I weigh nothing, my head resting on the chest of James’s twin. The minute I feel the cool breeze of the outdoors hit us, my stomach lets me know it does not appreciate endless chips and salsa or extra margaritas.

I untangle myself from the mystery guy’s arms and land on my hands and knees on the bitterly cold asphalt next to a black SUV, effectively ending the evening with a bang.

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