Tempt The Playboy (Tempt 2)

“As your friend, I’m going to try to talk you out of this.”

He shakes his head, ignoring me. He gets out of the car and walks to her door.

“This is a really, really bad idea. Women who are pissed can do evil things. I mean, she wasn’t even that pissed at you when she almost made your balls explode.”

“I have to see her,” he says and then knocks on the door. When I hear the locks click open, a smile starts to creep across his face. It’s quickly replaced with a frown when we both see that it’s Kaleigh who opens the door—with what appears to be a machete in her hand. Okay, so maybe not a real machete, but it sure as hell is a knife that looks like it can easily debone a chicken and probably take off a man’s—hopefully not this man’s—hand. She comes outside, closing the door behind her as the sound of Alanis Morissette is playing in the background.

“You have some nerve showing your face here,” she spits out at him. Turning to glare at me, it’s then I notice she’s a bit drunk.

“Is Lauren home?”

I look at him with a confused look on my face. Obviously she’s here. Her car is here.

“She is,” she confirms as she sways a little.

I look a little closer and can tell she’s totally blitzed. Tipsy was an hour ago.

“Whoa, there, little lady.” I wrap an arm around her shoulders to avoid the knife to my dick.

“I need to talk to her,” Austin says, but all I can do is take in the fact that she’s in my arms, she’s soft, she’s perfect, and she’s also still holding that fucking knife.

“Not going to happen. Not now, not ever.” She continues, “You fucked up bad.” She is now pointing the knife at Austin, and her voice is rising. “Really, really bad.”

“Babe, can we put the knife down?” I plead with a smile, and she smiles at me while bashfully giggling. I really fucking like drunk Kaleigh. She pushes her body more into me. We stand here staring at each other.

“Can I please just talk to Lauren for two minutes? Then I’ll leave, I promise,” he practically begs.

She stands up tall and pushes herself away from me. “Nope,” she replies and then turns around, grabbing the door handle and talking to us over her shoulder. “If you’re not gone in two minutes, I’m calling the cops and telling them you’re stalking me.”

He scoffs at that, and she glares at him.

“And show them the inappropriate dick pics you sent me.”

Austin turns to look at me.

I put both hands up. “I may have showed them to her and she might have forwarded a couple of them to herself.”

“Can you please tell her that I was here and ask her to call me? Please, Kaleigh?” He gets in right before she slams the door in our face and flips the locks with loud clicking sounds.

He hangs his head, while I pat him on the back.

“She’ll call.” I try to assure him, but unless hell freezes over… “Or send someone to kill you. I mean, she did say Donkey Kong.”

He shrugs my hand off of him and walks back to his car, while I turn to look at the house and wonder what would happen if I go back and ring the doorbell again. I’m about to take that step right before I hear girls chanting “Ironic” at full volume.

“Yup, tomorrow is another day!”

Chapter Sixteen

Kaleigh

The minute the sun peeks through the curtains it lands on my face. I try blinking my eyes and swallowing, but I must have swallowed a pack of cotton balls, because I can’t produce spit. I turn around and land on the floor. “Fuck.” I’m not even in my bed. I’m on the couch. I look over at Lauren, who is sleeping in a curled ball. “Jesus,” I say as I take in the room. There are about six empty wine bottles, some pizza in a take-out box, and an empty bottle of vodka with three shot glasses. “Shit.” When I try to stand my head just turns over and over, so I sit on my ass, turning on my knees and crawling to the bathroom. “I really hope I can get up and not have to pee myself,” I say to the walls, but I hear a groan coming from behind me.

“Oh, God,” I say to the toilet when I try to get up on it. I close my eyes, breathing out of my mouth, trying not to barf and to stop the room from spinning. After I finish, I walk hunched back over to the couch. “I think a cat died in my mouth.”

Lauren sits up and then falls back down.

“I’m never drinking again.”

“I second that,” Lauren says from her side of the couch, raising her hand in the air. “Shit, where is Barbara?” she asks and I take in the destruction of what used to be her tidy living room. “I’m in the kitchen making you girls the hangover special.”