Blame it on the Vodka (Blame it on the Alcohol #3) Read Online Fiona Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Blame it on the Alcohol Series by Fiona Cole
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
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“Either way,” he continued, “I had a temper with my words. I’d use someone’s biggest issue with themselves and twist it into a weapon to defend myself. The problem is that I’d lose control, and I’d go too far. I hated it—hated myself every time I did it. So, I did anger management and studied ways to control it. I didn’t want to be that kind of person. And I know it’s a shit-poor excuse, but that morning in Vegas, I was shocked, and triggers I hadn’t even thought to look for were flipped, and I reacted. It was shitty and not something you ever, ever deserved.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he kept stealing the occasional look to gauge my reaction. If he hadn’t been driving, I would have hugged him. Instead, I offered him my own apology. He hadn’t been the only one wrong that morning, and I was the one that pushed him too far.

“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have said all the shitty things that made you so mad.”

His head snapped, doing a double-take with pinched brows. “It’s not your fault,” he declared, his voice firm. “You’re not responsible for my actions. I am. No matter what you do, I am accountable for how I act, and I acted like a dick.”

Fire burned a path up my throat to the backs of my eyes. When was the last time I hadn’t been blamed? It wasn’t until just then that I realized that somewhere in the past year, Bodie molded me into a person who apologized for making someone mad.

How many nights had my mother told me that I am not responsible for other people’s actions, no matter what they say? I knew that. I knew it. But Bodie had whittled away at that confidence in the most subtle way, and I hadn’t even noticed until now—until Austin reminded me of how it was supposed to be. Until he reminded me of who he really was.

“Raelynn,” he said when I still hadn’t responded. “How we ended up there was both of us, but that never gives me the right to lose my temper. It never gives me the right to hurt you. I never want to hurt you.”

“I know.” And I did. I knew Austin. I knew him like the back of my hand, and regaining the confidence in my gut meant more than his apology. “Thank you, Austin.”

He gave me a soft smile before turning his attention back to the road.

I studied his strong profile and considered bringing up what was next for us. Now would be a perfect time, stuck in a car. But no other conversation mattered right then. A weight I hadn’t realized was so heavy lifted. I wanted to bask in the relief, not turn right around and face another one.

Especially one that could snatch it all away and end horribly—one that could end everything.

Chapter Fifteen

Austin

Rae: Thanks for this weekend.

I laughed at the selfie she must have taken when I didn’t notice. Her brown eyes were wide and obviously laughing as she caught me mid-headbang in the background. When I held the picture down, it went live to her face, scrunching into a laugh. She sent it to embarrass me, but I couldn’t stop re-watching her face break out into the most beautiful smile.

I’d dropped her off at her apartment yesterday after our karaoke drive home. She’d invited me in, and it had physically hurt to say no, but I did. I had to.

Rae always talked about how she never wanted to be smothered, and after the perfection of the weekend, the last thing I wanted to do was push my luck. I needed to show her that she could still have her life and be her own person while also being my wife. I loved her. I loved her as the beautiful woman she was, and I didn’t want to change that.

I wanted her to be the wild and free girl I met in college. I just wanted her to be wild and free with me by her side.

So, I said no and went home to suffer through my blue-balls the rest of the night. Even jacking off in the shower to images permanently imprinted in my mind hadn’t helped.

Me: It was fun.

Instead of telling her how I’d happily repeat the weekend forever, I kept it simple and added a photo of my own—one I snuck when she had passed out with her mouth open and possibly drooling if you zoomed in close enough.

Me: Also, I like this one better. Totally Instagram-worthy.

Rae: OMG! Where did you get that?

Me: I snuck it.

Rae: That is horrible.

Me: Nah. I like it.

I almost joked about how it reminded me of her mouth being wide around other things, but again, decided to keep it simple. Especially over text. Somehow, we managed to avoid the conversation on our drive home, and now we lingered in ill-fitted limbo.


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