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“Come on, lightweight.” Jen wraps an arm around my waist and bundles me into the back of the car.
“Come with me,” I whine, grasping at her top. “We can take you home.”
She laughs. “I can’t. Trey’s taking me to some club. You could have come with us if you could handle your alcohol. Now I have to takeBree,” she whispers that last part, and it makes me giggle.
“Champagne makes me dizzy,” I slur. Leaning my head back, I close my eyes. The vehicle starts moving, and I reopen them to find Bree standing on the sidewalk, glaring at the car.
Cuntface.
West is waiting for me outside the apartment building. Oops, he looks mad. I shrink back against the seat, but he climbs in after me and pulls me out of the car, scooping me into his arms and striding toward the entrance with a curt thanks to his driver thrown over his shoulder.
I hiccup. “Sorry.”
He presses the button for the elevator. “For what, princess?”
I trail my fingers over his jawline. “How did you know I was here? Are you sh-pying on me?”
He arches a beautiful thick eyebrow at me. I trace my fingertip over one and smile. Have his eyebrows always been this perfect? It’s like they’re manicured. “The driver called and told me you might not make it from the car to the penthouse without assistance.”
“So, you’re my assistant,” I say with a grin.
He laughs softly.
“I can’t afford to pay you.” I drop my head on his shoulder as he steps into the elevator, and the world immediately starts to spin. “I have no money.”
“You can pay me in kisses,” he says, pressing one to my forehead.
“Kisses,” I snort, and then gasp when I remember that I bought four exorbitantly expensive bottles of champagne using his credit card. “I spent all your money.”
“You did, huh? Wow. Must’ve been some night.”
I wince. “I bought four bottles of Dom Perignon. But it wasn’t for me. It was for this girl from college. She hates me and she said things and then, and then she looked at me like I was crazy… I’m sh-sorry.”
“I gave you my card so you’d spend some of my money, princess. It’s fine.”
“I’ll pay you back. Might take about five years, but I will. Promish.”
“We’ll see. But let’s get you to bed first.”
“I love you, West Archer,” I say with a dreamy sigh. Closing my eyes, I press my face into his neck and inhale his masculine scent.
I’m pretty sure I didn’t mean to say that aloud, and I’m also sure that he squeezes me a little tighter and presses a soft kiss on my forehead.
My eyes snap open and my head spins when the elevator doors open to the penthouse. I squint at the four men looking at me with a mixture of amusement and concern. “Why are there two Xanders and two Zekes?” I whisper.
Xander tips his head back and laughs. “Fuck, shorty. How much did you drink?”
“Not mush.” My stomach lurches. “I’m gonna be—” Vomit spews from my mouth. All over West. I’d be mortified if I wasn’t about to die of alcohol poisoning.
He doesn’t put me down though. Instead he walks straight to the bathroom and gently sets me on the tiled floor beside the toilet. “Look after her while I get cleaned up.”
A second later, Zeke and Xander are sitting on either side of me, and when I vomit again, with my head in the toilet this time, one of them rubs my back and the other holds my hair while they both murmur words of comfort. At least I think that’s what they are. I can’t seem to make out what they’re saying over the echoing sounds of my own stupidity.
* * *
When I wakeup the next morning, I’m dressed in a white cotton T-shirt that clearly belongs to one of the guys, and I have no recollection of putting it on. I do remember projectile vomiting all over West and then into the toilet bowl. I throw my arm across my eyes and groan. I am never ever drinking champagne again.
“How you feeling, shorty?”
