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I flap my lips together. “Fine. I’ll go talk to her.”
“Good. I’ll get that Tylenol for you, while you call Amy and tell her you need to talk to her.”
I reach for my phone. “Roger.”
“Rabbit.”
As Violet walks away, I swipe into my texts, figuring I’ll text Amy first and confirm she’s awake before calling. But when I swipe into my prior text chain with Amy, I see two unanswered messages from her that stop my heart.
Oh my God.
I remember now!
I saw both these texts last night, right after her second one landed on my screen!
In a flurry of memories, I remember myself grabbing the bottle of tequila I’d been chugging and sprinting out of this suite like my pants were on fire, headed straight to Amy’s room. Or so I thought. When I got to my destination, some old lady, not Amy, answered the door and started yelling at me for waking her up. And that’s when I bolted away with my tail between my legs, not bothering to grab the tequila bottle I’d dropped in the hallway in my shock.
But that’s the last thing I remember.
The next thing I knew, I was waking up on this couch.
Holy shit. Was I so shitfaced last night I couldn’t read Amy’s room number correctly? Did I get off the elevator on the wrong floor? I don’t know what happened to keep me from successfully reaching Amy’s room last night. All I know is, whatever it was, it was divine intervention. I can’t imagine how guilty I’d be feeling right now if I’d woken up in Amy’s bed, after drunkenly fucking her all night long.
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.
