Page 117 of Fourth Point Of Contact

“Where are we?”

“Denny’s.”

“The restaurant?” I asked, confused by what was going on. I vaguely remembered seeing Patrick and Chase outside the airport and then getting in the car with them, but why was I sitting on Patrick’s lap?

“Did I climb on top of you?” I asked through bleary eyes.

“You did,” he grinned, brushing my hair back from my face. “You also tried to fuck me, but Chase didn’t think that would be a good way to start the trip. You know…in jail.”

I held my head as I moaned. It was like a twelve-piece band was playing in my head, and half the instruments were drums. There were no pretty flutes or violins, either. No, only the loudest, most annoying instruments were allowed at this moment.

“Oh, God. Your mother?—”

“That’s why we’re stopping,” he chuckled.

His thumb brushed soothingly over my leg in small circles, keeping me grounded when all I wanted to do was fall over and puke up my guts.

“Water. I could really use some water.”

“Yeah, I figured. And maybe a bathroom.”

My eyes widened in horror at the implication. “Did I piss myself?”

“What? No,” he chuckled. “I just meant to freshen up.”

Relief surged through me. That would have been really fucking awkward. “I might not be able to fly home.”

“I can see that,” he laughed, tucking my hair back behind my ear. “I won’t be there to keep you from befriending any more men on the flight.”

“Men? Who did I—” And then I remembered the man I basically leaned against the whole flight. He had been so kind and helpful, but he could have been a serial killer. I groaned, flopping my head against Patrick’s shoulder. “That was so bad.”

“Tell me about it.”

“But he was so hot.”

His fingers suddenly tightened on me. “Let’s not talk about other men when you’re in my arms.”

“Jealous?” I smirked, trying to keep from falling over. Man, it felt like the whole fucking car was rolling.

“You walked out of the airport leaning on the guy. You fucking hugged him right in front of me.”

I sighed, flopping down on him again. “I’ll dissect that some other time. For now, I need water.”

“And food. Let’s go soak up some of that alcohol.”

The thought of putting anything in my stomach made me want to puke, but I had to try something. There was no way I could meet his mother in this condition. I stumbled out of the car, holding on for dear life as the world tilted around me. Thankfully, Chase came and offered his arm, even though Patrick snarled at him for the gesture.

“Aren’t you married?” I asked Chase.

“Happily.”

“Then what’s his problem?”

Patrick cut him off before he could answer. “Just because he’s married doesn’t mean I won’t rip his fucking arm off for touching you.”

Chills rolled down my spine at the threat. “Hmm, I like this side of you, but what are you going to do when I leave in a week?”

I meant it playfully, but the joke failed because Patrick’s jaw clenched hard, and for a moment, I wondered if he was actually going to let me leave.

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