Page 7 of Wasted

I needed something to settle my nerves. "Two shots of tequila and a beer."

"You got it." He flashed an all-white smile. He grabbed two shot glasses and a bottle of Patron. Popping the bottle open, he filled the glasses and slid them down the bar. I tossed them back and held up two fingers, indicating I needed two more. He filled two more glasses, and I shot those back and smiled when he handed me my beer. "Just wave if you need anything else."

I nodded as my gaze shifted back to Cole. Our eyes locked, and my breath caught as my pulse raced. He was just as gorgeous as the day he left but older and edgier. He no longer had that clean-shaven baby face of a boy. He still had dark hair, piercing blue eyes, full lips, and a chiseled jawline, now dusted with dark facial hair, and he looked like he'd gained about fifty pounds of solid muscle.

His broad shoulders squared with confidence as he pushed off the bar, and the sea of women parted as he strolled in my direction.

As Cole approached, I felt the shift in the room's energy. His celebrity status granted him an aura of authority, and I wondered how that power had shaped him.

"Fuck," I muttered, and I thought my heart might pound out of my chest. "Pull yourself together, Taylor. You can do this." I grabbed my beer and took a deep swig before setting it back on the bar.

Cole sidled up next to me, his arm brushing against mine as he leaned on the bar. "Can I buy you a drink?"

My eyes closed as the familiar scent of his cologne surrounded me, dragging me back to high school. That scentlingered on my pillows long after he was gone. My gaze shifted, meeting his blue eyes, trying to feign as little interest as possible.

I studied Cole's face, searching for traces of the boy I once knew. His features were sharper, his eyes harder. How much had we both changed? I couldn't help but wonder, was there anything left of our old selves beneath these new facades? "No, thanks." I forced a smile as my gaze flicked forward, and I fought the nerves rattling my insides. I needed at least two more shots.

He cocked an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Maybe you don't know who I am."

I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze with a defiant glare. "I know exactly who you are, Mr. Montgomery." I took a sip of my beer, letting the cool liquid steel my nerves. "And I'm not interested in being another notch on your bedpost."

His forehead creased, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as he swayed slightly. I wondered if I had gone too far.

His eyes flicked to the row of empty shot glasses in front of me, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "That's not what your drink choice suggests."

The corners of my lips pulled into a playful grin, and I refrained from blowing out a sigh of relief. "And what does my drink choice say?"

Pushing off the bar, he stepped behind me; I twisted my head to follow him. His arms came around me, grabbing the bar and caging me in. His mouth dropped to my ear, and the sweet smell of whiskey assaulted my nose. He leaned in close, his lips barely grazing my ear. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down my spine as he whispered, "Your drink choice says..." My eyes closed, and for a brief moment, I remembered what it was like to be his. My stomach fluttered as I let myself go back and remember his touch, his mouth, his kiss. "You've had a rough day, and you need to be fucked until you forget all about it."

My eyes snapped open. If this was anyone else and a totally different situation, I would throat-punch him, but that was my opening. "And you think you're the right man for the job?" I teased flirtatiously. "Because I was kind of thinking the bartender might be."

His hands dropped, and I thought I'd gone too far again when my chair spun, and our gaze collided. Sucking in a deep breath, I held it as my chest tightened and fear lodged in my throat. He was going to recognize me, and this would all be over before it started.

He stumbled slightly, breaking eye contact, and I realized Kylie was right. He was way too wrecked to realize it was me. I looked into his hazy, glazed-over icy blue eyes—eyes I didn't recognize anymore. "We both know you're leaving here with me tonight, so what do you say we skip the playing-hard-to-get foreplay and get out of here."

Clenching my jaw, I fought my eyes, which were trying to roll out of my head. I drained the last of my beer and slammed the glass down on the bar. With a swift motion, I pushed off the stool, my body deliberately brushing against his. "Let's go." For a split second, his facade cracked, genuine surprise etching itself into his features. But he recovered swiftly, squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest. I tilted my head, a coy smile playing on my lips as I trailed a finger down his chest. "Your place or mine?"

Chapter Four

Cole

My mouth felt like sandpaper, and the room spun slightly as my eyes eased open. I groaned, my head pounding. It must have been a wild night.

Too bad I didn't remember.

I moved my hand to rub my eyes, but I couldn't.

It was stuck.

My gaze flashed up, narrowing on the silver cuffs restraining me to the bed. My heart rate spiked as I realized I couldn't move. Panic set in as I yanked harder against the restraints.

I blinked rapidly, trying to piece together fragments of memory. Flashing lights, pounding music, a stranger's laugh. Nothing connected.

"What the..." My eyes shifted down. My first thought was, what the fuck kind of kinky shit did I get into last night? But I was still fully dressed. I glanced around. I was in my hotel room. I never came back to my hotel room after a night out, especially with a woman, because I knew I'd catch a lecture that I didn't want.

"Hey, Cole."

My breath caught in my throat.

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