Exhaling, I drag my hung-over ass into the bathroom, mumbling to myself about what a douchebag I am. And when I come out freshly showered fifteen minutes later, everyone’s sitting at the table, amiably chatting while eating breakfast. Violet gives me the Tylenol she promised me earlier, which I gratefully accept, along with a huge glass of water and another cup of coffee.
“Get everyone up to speed while I’m talking to Amy, would you?” I say to Violet. “I don’t want to talk about it when I get back, especially if I’ve got Amy in tow.”
“I already told them everything,” Violet says with a wink.
“Of course, you did.” I put down my coffee cup. “Everyone be chill if I come back here with Amy, okay? Act like you did with her at dinner last night.”
“We’re not the ones who kissed her and told her about The Sure Thing and woke up to regret it,” Dax says. “We’ll be perfectly comfortable around Amy. She’s a sweetheart.”
“I’m sad you’re not planning to date her,” Alessandra says. “She’s so nice.”
“I already like her better than you,” Fish adds, smiling at me.
I roll my eyes. “This isn’t the sort of thing that gets put to a group vote, dudes.”
“Maybe it should be,” Violet retorts. “If you’d put Kiera to a group vote, I guarantee we could have saved you a whole lot of time, my friend.”
Mock-snarling at Violet, I grab a piece of bacon off her plate, since I know she abhors anyone but her son, Jackson, touching her food. And much to my delight, Violet swats my hand and tells me to get my own damned bacon.
“Why would I do that, when it’s so much tastier off your plate?” I reply with a wink. I move to grab a second piece off Violet’s plate, but this time, she grabs my wrist and says no like my next move could be my last. Which, of course, only makes me laugh. It’s a running gag between Violet and me, actually, since our last tour, when Violet and Jackson tagged along. Violet would say something to Jackson and then turn to me and say the exact same thing, in the same tone, implying I’ve got the maturity of a toddler. Honestly, it never fails to amuse me.
“Go,” Violet says, pointing at the door. “Bacon will be your reward when you get back from talking to Amy, and telling her the truth, like a big boy.”
“Fine.” I grab a piece of bacon off a communal plate in the center of the table and point at a stack of blueberry pancakes. “Leave those for me. I’m hung over and hungry, and I’m sure I’m gonna want to eat my feelings when I get back.”
“Be totally honest with her,” Violet says. “But gentle.”
“I’ll handle her with kid gloves,” I say, before heaving out a long, dejected sigh. “Believe me, making sweet little Amy O’Brien sob when I tell her that kiss was a huge mistake isn’t at all how I want to be spending my Sunday morning.”
Twelve
Amy
As Colin’s body gyrates on top of me, I clutch his naked, hard ass and unleash ten years’ worth of desire in a singular, guttural growl. I turn my head to invite his lips to mine, and the second Colin’s tongue enters my mouth, my body releases a rolling orgasm that yanks me out of my dream . . . and back into reality, where, oh my God, I’m having an actual, rolling orgasm in real life! I lie still for a long moment in my hotel bed, enjoying the unexpected pleasure, and then sigh happily.
Wow.
That was a first for me—climaxing, in real life, due to a sex dream. It’d be the perfect way to wake up, if it weren’t for the horrific hangover making me feel like I might barf.
Yawning, I stretch and groan, letting the amazing memories from last night wash over me. That kiss with Colin! It was supernatural! And what in the dirty-talking perfection was the stuff Colin whispered into my ear afterward? I wish I could remember all of it, but I can’t. I remember him whispering about wanting to eat my pussy. I also remember him grabbing my hand and yanking my arm out of my socket and—
Oh, God.
Our mothers.
I remember now.
We turned that corner, and there they were.
Shit.
Did Colin ever text me last night to finish what we started downstairs? Did I pass out before receiving his text? I reach for my phone, but before I’ve swiped into my texts, Colin’s name pops onto my screen as an incoming call.
“Good morning,” I say, my heart racing with excitement.
“Good morning,” Coin replies. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Nope, I’m up.”
“Can we talk? I’m standing in the hallway. I’m not sure which room is yours.”
My stomach sinks. Colin’s tone isn’t flirtatious. On the contrary, it’s tense and apologetic. Regretful. And I know, just this fast, this “talk” he wants to have isn’t code for “let’s finish what we started last night!” No, Colin genuinely wants to talk. Undoubtedly, about our kiss being a horrible, awful, regrettable mistake.
“Uh, sure. Give me five minutes.”
“Take your time.”
“I’ll let you into my room to sit while you wait for me.”
“Great.”
I head to the door and open it, and sure enough, Colin is standing in the hallway in sweats and a T-shirt. Oddly, though, he’s not facing me. He’s facing the room immediately across from mine.
“Hi.”
Colin whirls around and palms his forehead. “Well, that explains it.” Shaking his head, he points. “708.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about. And I’m too nervous about my impending doom to ask. So, I simply open the door and let him pass inside.
Colin’s body language is as tight as his voice was on the phone, confirming my earlier hunch. He’s here to tell me last night was a mistake that will never happen again.
“What’s up?” I ask, my stomach twisting into knots.
“Why don’t you do whatever you need to do first,” he says, gesturing to the bathroom. “And then we’ll talk.”
“Great,” I squeak out lamely.
Once inside the bathroom, I close the door, put my phone on the counter, and do the bare minimum of my morning routine. But when I grab my phone again, intending to head back into the room to face my certain slaughter, I’m slammed with a montage of memories that stops me in my tracks.
Ball Peen Hammer. Blue hair and dimples. The Sure Thing!
Oh, God.
Get your hot ass to my room! Eat my pussy and do The Sure Thing to me! Fuck my brains out until we both see God!
No, no, no!
Please, God, no!
Our amazing kiss fulfilled my biggest childhood fantasy about you.
Now it’s time for you to fulfill my far more adult fantasies about you.
My pulse quickening, I swipe into my texts with Colin . . . and instantly turn unalive when I see my two, unanswered texts. Panicking, I quickly google, “How to unsend a text,” and it’s instantly clear from the results I’m totally fucked.
I tilt my head back, willing aliens to beam me up from this hotel bathroom and disappear me forever. But little green men don’t come to save me, and I know I can’t remain in this bathroom forever. And so, eventually, I take a deep breath, pull up my proverbial big-girl panties, and drag my hung over, embarrassed ass into the next room.