Blame it on the Vodka (Blame it on the Alcohol) - Page 53

“That’s a whole fucking lot,” he surmised, draining his glass.

“I know,” I laughed. “It’s just not as simple as before. I let a part of myself out that I didn’t usually share with her, and she let me in. Something happened this weekend. Something changed, and if ever there was a chance to make it work, this is it.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Only four words. A simple enough question. One I didn’t want to think about yet. “Then I’ll deal with it if it comes to that.”

“Are you willing to bet your friendship on it?”

“I already have,” I said truthfully. “I can’t—I can’t go back to being just friends. I didn’t think I could even before we got to the house. I’ve been wearing thin for a while now—seeing her with Bodie. Vegas just pushed me too hard.”

“Yeah, a drunken marriage will do that,” he deadpanned.

I flipped him off just as my phone buzzed. My screen lit up with her name, and the dread from the conversation ebbed away.

Rae: Wanna come over? Bachelor is on.

King saw the message and shook his head. “Is that some booty call?”

“No. Maybe? I mean, I don’t know.”

“Jesus,” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter what tonight is. I need this to be different. I need to show her that we have something different. I’m not going to be some guy that just fucks her and lets her walk away.”

“So, you’re going to go but not sleep with her?”

I tried to imagine Rae in front of me and not ravaging her—not going in for another taste—and hated it. But I needed to show her all sides of us, of what we could be, so I ground my teeth and met King’s eyes with a decisive nod.

“Good fucking luck, bro,” he laughed.

“It’ll be fine. I’ve gone years without sleeping with her.”

He hummed doubtfully before turning serious. “Eventually, you’re going to have to talk about what comes next.”

“I know.”

“If you go, you’ll probably end up talking tonight.”

I swallowed the ball of nerves trying to choke me. “Yeah. I know.”

“And if it doesn’t go well?”

Taking a deep breath, I remembered the other half of our deal. “No matter what, she still owes me a trip to my family, and if it all goes to shit, then I’ll make the best of what I have left. I’m not going down without a fight.”

King huffed a laugh, knowing when to stop pushing. He knew what a stubborn fucker I could be. So, he shook his head and smiled. “Good fucking luck, dude.”

I was gonna need it.

Me: I’ll see you then.

Chapter Sixteen

Raelynn

“Are you… are you dressed up?” Nova asked, moving closer like she’d be able to study me through the computer screen.

“I’m always dressed up,” I defended with nonchalance.

Vera gave me a dubious stare from her square of the screen. “Not for an episode of The Bachelor, you’re not.”

“It’s different. I always put in at least a little extra effort when I have someone coming over.”

Vera laughed, earning a glare.

“Not for Austin,” Nova declared.

“Since when?” I scoffed.

“Since never,” Nova said. “I’ve legit seen you look like a hobo almost every time he comes over.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to remember what I usually wore. The problem was, usually, I hadn’t just slept with my best friend and now overthought how I looked around him. Usually, it was just another Monday night that he came over and vegged out just like he was one of the girls. After the weekend, I could one-hundred-percent vouch that Austin was not one of the girls.

But I still wasn’t ready to admit that maybe—just maybe—I put in a little, tiniest bit of extra effort getting ready. Maybe.

Not that they would let me get away with it.

“One day, your sweatpants had a hole in them,” Vera accused.

“They’re my favorite and lucky.”

“They had a hole over your ass cheek. And not a little one,” she kept going.

“God, I thought Austin was going to have an aneurism when you bent over,” Nova said. Both women broke into laughter while I scrambled through my brain for a memory of Austin checking me out.

“What?” I asked, coming up empty. Sure, maybe he looked at me but nothing compared to the way he did this past weekend. I would’ve remembered that. Hell, I was sure I’d remember the feel of his eyes burning me alive on my death bed.

“Oh, yeah,” Nova mused. “That’s when you were in denial that Austin is attracted to you.”

My face screwed up in denial, but no actual words passed through my mouth, opening and closing like a fish out of water. They’d harped on the same thing for years, but I always brushed it off. The man had straight-up turned down a chance to sleep with me. How the hell could he have wanted me when he could have had me?

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