Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 107508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Kat looked at me then back at Deck. “You think he’ll have a cosmo with us?”
Georgie picked up the remainder of her cocktail and chugged back half of it. “Can you really see Deck sipping on a cosmo? Besides, you see that wrinkle between his brows? Yep ... right pissed, like turnip-up-the-butt kind of mad.”
I was either too drunk or too emotional after Logan’s words to say anything. I slipped down into the chair closest to me, my ass cheek half off cause I kind of missed. Deck was making his way toward us, and his scowl was the kind that would have most running. I’d have hid under the table if I thought it would do any good.
Not sure why Deck’s eyes were on me, as if I’d just brought hell down on him. I picked up my cosmo and slurped the last of it, making a loud sucking noise. Matt suddenly was at my side, and he snatched the drink from my hand and slammed it down none to gently on the other side of the table.
“I’m not happy,” Deck said. Was Deck ever happy? I mean, really, he rarely spoke, and when he did it was serious.
“I am. Fantastic night,” Georgie said smirking. “Cosmo, Deck? Might make you smile.”
His eyes darted to Georgie, and she cocked her hip and held up her nearly empty drink. He grabbed it, chugged the contents back then tossed it on the table. “You see me smiling, Georgie?”
“Nope,” Kat said and laughed.
Deck wasn’t laughing. He was pissed. I was thinking either Logan called him, or Matt. Not sure why; I mean, we were out having fun and were a little drunk, but girls did that, and it was fun, and we were allowed to have fun.
“You get why I’m here?”
Georgie, Kat and I looked at one another and giggled while we shook our heads. Georgie was the only one smashed or stupid or brave enough to answer.
“You’re hoping I’m drunk enough to take me home and fuck me all night long in every orifice possible?” Georgie said.
“Jesus, Georgie.” Matt groaned.
Deck’s brow lowered, and his hands clenched. “I’m not doing this shit every fuckin’ night, Georgie. You need to get your crap together.”
What was he talking about?
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Seems like you do. And dragging Raven out with you? What the fuck were you thinking?”
“She asked to come,” Georgie objected.
Deck scowled. “Yeah right. Get in the car. All of you,” Deck ordered, and even though I could see Georgie wanting to protest, she didn’t.
I knew she was going out a lot, but the conversation sounded like she was “going out” a little too often, and Deck didn’t like it.
Georgie walked over to Raven who was still sitting with the guitarist from Strikeback and put out her hand. Raven ignored her hand, but rose and followed behind her as Georgie waved to Matt and the band as if she hadn’t just been given shit by Deck.
I started walking to the door when Deck fell in beside me. He gave a chin-lift to Matt who was on the phone, my guess with Logan.
“You’re drunk, and you may not remember what I’m telling you, beautiful, but you need to hear it anyway.” Deck pulled me to a halt before we reached the car. “He should’ve fuckin’ told you the other day what went down after you left that shit hole. He didn’t—his choice. Not mine.” Deck grabbed my arm to steady me as I swayed. “It was bad, Emily. Real bad. He gained my respect for life for what he did for you, walking back into that hellhole ... Hard to get my respect, easy to lose it.”
Deck respected Logan.
“This isn’t him asking me to look out for you. This is me looking out for you, because I care about you and so does Logan. He’s worried about you and he has every right to be.” What did that mean? Deck swore beneath his breath. “Emily ...” He stopped at the car where Georgie, Kat and Raven were already piled in the backseat. I thought he was going to say something else, but instead he helped me into the car then shut the door. I was left wondering what the hell he was talking about. What did he mean really bad? I had this sudden need to talk to Logan, hear his voice and make certain he was alright. I clutched my purse to my chest to keep from taking out my phone.
Then Deck took us to the condo where I proceeded to throw up in the toilet then pass out on the floor.
Waking on the cold, hard tiled floor sometime the next day, I felt as if a skunk had sprayed in my mouth and I had iron pokers sticking in my head.
Groaning, I used the toilet to hoist myself up to the sink, tagged my toothbrush, piled on toothpaste, and stuck it in my mouth. I did that three times then tilted my head into the sink and drank the cool water relieving some of my dry mouth.
As I shut off the water, my purse vibrated beside the toilet on the floor. Falling back onto my ass, I propped up against the cupboard while shuffling through my purse for my phone. I glanced at the screen and groaned again.
“You’re calling me this early on purpose, aren’t you? Punishment for my sins.”
Logan chuckled, and despite loving the sound of his sexy, deep chuckle that I rarely heard, I held the phone away from my ear.
“Ouch.”
“That good?”
“Hmmm.” Closing my eyes, I brought my knees up to hook my arm around them.
“I should be there.”
I huffed. “Yeah, you’d be clanging frying pans together.”
“No, I’d bring you breakfast in bed with Advil.”
Shit. Damn it, why did he have to do sweet? It made all my reservations about him blowtorch into ash. And I had no return comment.
“That’s after I talked to you about last night, Eme.” He paused, and I could picture him running his hand through his hair; I wanted my hands running through it. Well, maybe not such a good idea right at this moment. I put my head down and rested it on my knees. “When we talk, it’s good. Then last night we didn’t. I got caught up with the new manager, and I couldn’t call you. We did our gig, and I tried after the set, but you didn’t pick up. I thought you might be asleep, so I called Matt after we were done to see how Strikeback was working out, and he told me you were there. Then he said you were slurring your words. Eight cosmos. Eight.”