Page 31 of The Little Black Book

“Tequila,” she explains, “is thedevil.”

The bartender places three shot glasses on the bar and fills them with the clear liquid. We each grab a glass, and holding them up in a silent toast, toss them back. Zoey gags a little at the burn, but breathes her way through it while motioning for another round.

“Badass,” I say, and she laughs.

After the third round, Ava pulls us out onto the dance floor. We start out dancing in a loose circle, but a tall stranger quickly moves in on Ava. She shrugs and rests her forearms on his shoulders, her body moving in sync with his as they roll their hips to the beat.

Turning toward Zoey, I grab her hips and pull her closer. She laughs and circles her hands behind my neck, gripping it tightly. My hands slide around to her back, pressing her against me as we move to the heavy bass beat of the music.

As I stare down into her pretty hazel eyes, the rest of the bar fades away. My heart starts to pound, and not from the exertion of dancing. She feelsrightin my arms, and my gaze drops to her lips just in time to see her pink tongue dart out to wet them. My cock stirs, growing rock hard within seconds. Zoey’s lips part, and my head starts to dip.

She pulls out of my grip suddenly, her chest heaving with each labored breath. I freeze, wondering what in the fuck just happened.

It’s the tequila. It really is the devil.

“I’m tired,” she says. “I’m going to call Zeke to come get us.”

She turns and takes a step toward Ava, who’s still dancing with the stranger next to us. Placing a hand on her shoulder, Zoey says something into her ear, and Ava nods. Giving her dance partner a firm pat on the cheek, she breaks away and links arms with Zoey before heading back toward the bar.

I follow slowly behind, my mind spinning. I’m pretty buzzed, but not drunk enough to lose all my good sense. Zoey and I are friends, and I had no business feeling the way I felt with her in my arms.

“Can Zeke give me a ride, too?” I ask, keeping a casual stance as I stop beside Zoey and Ava. “I shouldn’t drive, and I can come get my car in the morning.”

“Sure,” Zoey says, a little too brightly.

Ava carries the conversation until Zeke arrives, then climbs into the passenger seat, leaving Zoey and me no choice but to sit in the back. Together. The ride is tense as we keep as much distance as possible between us. Ava and Zeke talk in low tones as he drives toward my place, but I don’t hear any of the words over my own internal dialogue.

It’s fine. It was just the booze. And the sting of rejection when Abigail dumped me for her ex.

I know it’s all bullshit, but my goal is to keep telling myself that until it sticks. I can’t make a move on Zoey. Despite my attraction, we are and always have been firmly planted in the friend zone. And Ilikehaving her as a friend.

I can’t do anything to jeopardize that friendship. It means too much to me.

Chapter11

Sugar and Caffeine Fix Everything

Zoey

Islowly blink my eyes open as memories from last night roll through my brain on a loop. Reaching over to turn off my alarm, I fall back to the mattress with a groan and drape my arm over my eyes.

I don’t know what happened last night. After Sam’s date left with another woman, we decided not to let the night be a total waste and tried to have a good time. And we did…have a good time, that is…until Sam pulled me into his arms to dance. Something inside me went a little haywire––thank you, tequila––and I felt my body heat up, tension coiling inside me.

And when Sam started staring at my mouth, I ached for him to kiss me.

The sudden desire flaming inside me shocked me sober. I know I looked like a maniac, jerking away from him and claiming exhaustion, but what else was I supposed to do? If I continued down the path I was headed, I was going to do something idiotic. Something that would surely destroy the easy friendship I shared with Sam.

“Fucking tequila,” I mutter before flipping the covers off and sitting up, dangling my legs over the edge of the mattress.

Sam and I arejustfriends, and we’re smack dab in the middle of a campaign to find him love. I can’t let tequila––yes, I will blame that evil trickster for this until the day I take my last breath––ruin everything.

Checking the time on my phone, I groan and force myself off the bed. I need to shower and get ready for work. Pushing all thoughts of last night and Sam away, I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Maybe the hot water will wash away all my confusion, leaving me with a clear head.

Maybe.

By the time I walk intoGlaZZed,I’ve managed to recover from the ill effects of the booze and push away my inner turmoil. The smell of fried dough and sugary glaze wafts up my nose, and I smile as I head behind the counter and poke my head through the door to the kitchen.

“Morning, Zeke.”

---