Page 55 of The Puckable Playbook

I nearly trip over the curb, but luckily save face before closing the door and walking up to the building. Clark pulls away and is out of sight when I get to the door and search for my key. I dig all through my little purse and don’t see anything but my ID, credit card, a few dollars, and my phone.

Maybe it dropped in Clark’s car? No way am I calling him now. Not when I just put my foot in my mouth.

I hug my arms around myself and brace against the cold wind before looking through my contacts for Zaiah and pressing his name, my stomach churning. He’s half an hour away, and I don’t want to pull him from having a good time, but another burst of cold air rushes past me, and I run my hands up and down my arms.

“Len, are you okay?”

“Hey.” I nibble on my lip.

“Hey, are you okay? Where are you?”

The concern in his voice makes my voice crack. “I’m locked out.”

“Sweetie, where are you?”

“Outside Knightley.” An entire body shiver sends my teeth chattering.

“Where’s Clark?”

“He dropped me off. Are you in the vicinity to come let me in?”

A tinny voice in the background that must be Adam asks, “He dropped her off? Dick.”

“Oh wait, here comes someone,” I tell them.Ugh, could this day get any worse?I wave at the person coming up to the door. “Lost my key.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you around. I’ll let you in.”

“Lenore?” A pause. “Lenore?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” I respond as another shiver runs through me. “I’m in the vestibule now.”

“Okay, I’m coming. I should be there in ten.”

“No, stay. I can ask someone here to let me in.”

“Sweetie, I’m already in the car heading your way. Be there in ten.”

That same tinny voice says, “You’re a—” before the line goes dead.

I peer at the screen to confirm he’s not there anymore, then call out thank you to the person who let me in.

Warmth wraps around me, but I still keep my arms folded in front of me. This is exactly what I didn’t want when I decided to wear this dress. The harsh florescent lights spotlight me. At least at the club, I could hide in the dark, in the brief respites between the strobe and laser beams.

I’m halfway up the stairs when I realize I should’ve taken the elevator. The banister is my lifeline, and I cling to it before getting to the second floor. Then I realize I went the wrong way down the hallway. Not because I’m drunk, but because my legs are pale. Too pale, and it’s all I can look at as I make my way around.

I look ridiculous.

Our room number is like a beacon, and I finally get to it and lean against the door. My knees want to give way, but I can’t sit on the floor in my dress or I’ll definitely be showing off my hoo-ha to anyone who walks by.

I stare at my phone, checking for the time I called Zaiah. I simultaneously regret and can’t wait for him to get here.Crawling into my bed right now sounds like a good plan. How am I going to face Clark the next time I see him? And I’m definitely going to have to see him because I’m pretty sure he has my key. Plus, there’s work and all that.

I’ll blame it on the alcohol.

Hey, isn’t that a song?

Blame it on the a-a-a-a-alcohol.

I’ve only sung the chorus more than a dozen times, since I don’t know any of the other words, before loud thumps echo on the steps.

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