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I tip my shot back, wince, and shake off the burn. “Wow, you went straight for the good stuff.”
Hugo smirks. “The situation seemed dire.”
“Good call.” I nod the bartender. "In fact, leave the bottle."
Hugo lets out a whistle. “Taking no prisoners tonight, huh?”
“Nope.” I pour another round and knock mine back with a shudder. The sooner I can wipe that life-changing kiss from my memory, the better. “So you better try to keep up, or call me a cab home. The choice, my friend, is yours.”
And then I pour again…
* * *
There’sa hammering inside my head. It smacks at my right temple, again and again. Eyes still closed against the sunlight, I moan pathetically at the pain.
Why, oh why, is there light in the world? And sound?
Make it go away.
Wait. I realize through my foggy, hungover haze that the hammering might be outside of my head, after all. Someone is pounding on my door.
I stumble out of bed, feeling like my brain is sloshing around in my head. “I am never drinking again,” I whimper, opening the door.
Reeve’s assistant, Anna, is standing there. I squint at her because opening my eyes fully hurts too much. “’Morning. It is morning, isn’t it? Shit. Am I late to… Something?”
“No, it’s Saturday, you have the day off.” Anna says, looking anxious. She tries to peer past me, into my room. “Umm, I’m sorry to wake you, but… I was wondering if you’ve seen Hugo?”
“Hugh who?” I ask, nauseous. Am I going to vomit? Wait… I clutch my stomach and pray.
Nope. All good.
“Hugo Chambers,” Anna clarifies, still peering. “Our Darcy?”
“Oh, right. Him.” I blink at her, trying to understand. Man alive, I am too hungover to be vertical and speaking. “I haven’t seen him. Or anything. I’ve been too busy, passed out.” I gesture vaguely.
Anna blushes. “It’s just… The last time anyone saw him, he was at the bar doing shots with you. A lot of shots.”
“Well, that explains the anvil lodged in my skull,” I reply, fuzzy-mouthed, as Fraser’s hotel door opens, and he emerges into the hallway—looking fresh-faced, alert, and like a man who got eight solid hours of sleep and didn’t consume half their weight in tequila.
Damn him.
“So… Is he here?” Anna asks, still looking awkward.
“Who?” I ask again, distracted. I have the strangest memory of Fraser’s hands sliding over my ass…
“Hugo!” Anna exclaims. “If he spent the night with you, I promise, I won’t tell a soul. I just need him to get to rehearsal, like, half an hour ago.”
Fraser’s head snaps around to stare.
“Spent the night?” I repeat, still fuzzy.
Fraser’s hands on my ass, and his tongue in my mouth…
“Why would Hugo be here with me—Oh.” I blink, finally putting two and two together and coming up with a ridiculous idea.
Hugo Chambers, movie star, and… Me?
“Ha!” I snort with laughter—and immediately regret it.Owww. I clutch my head. “No. Sorry, he’s not.”
