Wrong Bed Baby (Crescent Cove 10) - Page 23

“I’m a teacher,” I said indignantly. “I know my limits.”

Too bad I never managed to abide by them lately.

“You have two nieces?”

I nodded, trying valiantly not to lay my head down in my plate.

“That’s lovely. I have two granddaughters. My Asher has—”

“Wait, Asher Wainwright?” The dots connecting made my brain hurt. “The podcast dude? Today’s show is about an ax murderer. Dammit, I missed it.” I put my watch up to my ear.

“Pretty sure that’s not how that works.” She shook her head and started to rise, swirling the voluminous folds of brightly colored fabric that draped around her. “I’m going to find Luna, see if she has any suggestions for…this.” She waved a hand at me and I couldn’t even object at being a this. I’d have to climb up several levels to hit that status right now. “She’s mentioned a hangover cure that could work for what ails you.”

“I’m not hungover. I haven’t made it to morning yet.”

But Bess was looking around, a quizzical expression on her face. “Or you mentioned Lucky? The boisterous one?”

I snorted. “He’s an asshole. But I don’t need help. I’m good.” I lurched to my feet and admired the stars revolving above my head. How cool. “I got it,” I insisted, holding a hand out directly in front of me when Bess hurried around the table to offer me her support.

“Lucky can just come downstairs with you, make sure you get in okay. Where did he get off to?”

“Probably in that girl.” I grimaced and clutched my head. “Sorry, Bess. Ma’am.”

She sighed. “You think you’re having a good day then you get ma’am-ed.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Or Miss? Whatever. Sorry, lady. I gotta go. Thanks for the advice.”

“I didn’t give you any,” she called after me as I focused intently on making it to the door of the roof.

Well, that explained why I didn’t feel any more enlightened.

Through the miracle of gravity, I made my way down the stairs. I nearly fell into the wall when a pair of women started heading up the narrow staircase, but one of them offered a steadying hand and somehow slipped something in my pocket. I didn’t know if it was a roofie or her phone number. Either seemed equally possible. She and her friend were gone before I could get my wits about me enough to ask.

I was tempted to shout after her, but at that moment, Christian Masterson appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his uniform hat set precisely on his head and his mouth in a grim line.

“Beck. Why am I not surprised you’re part of this melee?”

I frowned. I wasn’t at the peak of my wits right now, but I was pretty sure I was alone in the stairway—other than Christian himself of course. But looking around did not seem advisable right now, so I focused on the good officer’s unsmiling face.

“It’s Lucky’s fault.”

He nodded. “Also not surprising Roberts is involved.” He took out a notebook. “We’ve received numerous noise complaints. As well as,” he cleared his throat, “a report of a large male exposing himself as he urinated over the side of the roof.”

I shouldn’t have laughed. It wasn’t funny. Or it wasn’t that funny. But hell if I didn’t have to grab my stomach as I barreled into the wall yet again.

Christian, however, was not amused.

“That wasn’t you, was it?”

I grew serious immediately. Even toasted off my ass, I remembered just fine that I was employed by a Catholic elementary school, and Sister Tobias would not be amused by such antics from her educators. “Absolutely not. I’m more than the average eight inches, but I wouldn’t say—” I was pretty sure I giggled at Christian’s look of disgust. “Okay, fine, I can’t say I’m not large, but I didn’t pee off the roof. I don’t even have to go.”

“Thank you for that needless explanation. A yes or no would’ve sufficed.” He started to push past me then stopped on the stair above me. “You live in this building?”

I nodded, the movement seeming sluggish even to me. Obviously, I’d have to sleep this off. I was a hot mess, as the kids would say.

God, I was getting old. Not even thirty yet, and I couldn’t handle my drink. Again.

“Okay. Think you can get to your apartment on your own steam?”

Tags: Taryn Quinn Crescent Cove Romance
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