Page 112 of Infatuated as They Come
“I slipped, okay? Ask Gemma.” Holly reached a hand out to one of the bartenders.
The woman nodded. “She’s telling the truth.”
I looked back at Holly, still holding her chin. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ve had worse falls from cheer.”
“And you’re alright? Fuck, look at that bruise. You’re gonna have it for a week,” I muttered, kissing the spot as softly as I could. “You gotta be more careful, baby.”
“Whatever. I don’t even care. Where were you?”
I let a thumb stroke at her chin softly. “It’s a long, long story. I’ll explain it to you later. I know I made a promise to you that I’d be here and I broke it. I swear it won’t happen again.”
“That is sooo sweet of you,” she said, lifting up a glass to her lips. “So sweet. You make me go to a place that I don’t even want to go to, and then you don’t even show up on time! So nice of you.”
“I get it if you’re mad. Something happened… Again, long story.”
She reached over to me, giving my tie a soft tug. “What happened to your suit?”
I just sighed at the question.
“Long story, right?” She filled in the blanks before I could speak up and turned to the bartender. “Can… Can I get another one please?”
Frowning, my fingers grasped her chin again, turning her to me so I could see her properly. At the glassy look in her eyes and her slumped over form. “Are you drunk?”
“No,” she bit out. “Are you?”
“Oh, Christ, you are drunk,” I said. From the corner of my eyes, I could see the bartender sliding another filled glass to her.
“I’m not drunk,” Holly said, picking up the glass. “I’m not even drinking alcohol.”
“Is that right?” I yanked the glass out of her hand, taking the smallest of sips and rolling my eyes as the smooth sweet liquid hit my tongue. “Tequila? Really? You’ve never had a drop of alcohol in your life and this is what you do?”
“It’s not tequila,” she said. “It’s Sprite.”
“I don’t know what kinda Sprite you’ve been buying, but it’s time to leave. You’ve had enough.”
“I don’t even know why you care,” Holly said, words a little slurred, “because lately, you seem to forget that I exist.”
“Okay, look, we’ll talk about this when we get back to your place,” I said, my hands landing on hers. “Let’s go.”
“No.”
“Princess, it’s time to leave. I know you’re mad at me and you have every right to feel that way, but right now, it’s time to go. The truck’s outside. Come on.”
She blinked at me. “Truck?”
“The one you got me.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Were you expecting a limo?” I joked, brushing some hair out of her eyes.
“Limo’s are tacky. No one uses limos anymore.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think I’m tacky?”
“No.” I snorted. “Time to go home.” Hands on her waist, I guided her off the stool slowly, letting her slump against my chest in her heels. I kept her steady as we moved away from the bar, fully aware of how suspicious I looked with a drunk, out of her mind Holly in my arms.
“Where are we going?” Holly asked.
