Page 55 of One Billion Reasons

Mark gives me a tiny, mean smile, and pours another shot of brandy. He’s barely finished before I slam it. I feel loose already. Loose and warm. Not a bad thing, considering that I started the night tense and turned on.

“Another,” I order. “I don’t want to stand here any longer than necessary.”

We take another shot, then another, until I don’t feel loose, I feel hazy and a little disconnected. I don’t want to speak to Mark. I just want to be done with this stupid game. My disdain must show on my face because Mark shakes his head and says, “You’re as prickly as your mother.”

I set my glass down carefully on the table before I’m tempted to break it over his head. “What’s your problem? You clearly have it out for me. Why don’t you tell me why?” I spread my arms. “I’m right here.”

“I hate your whole arrogant family. Especially your father.” Mark smiles coldly, and I step toward him. “He always acted like he was better than me. But worst of all was your mother. Rejecting me for that swine.”

“I’ll fucking kill you.” I start to pull off my suit jacket, but I hear, “Miles.” I turn, and Lane is there, Catherine right behind her. Lane’s eyes are huge and concerned. “I’m tired. Can we head to bed?” For a second my muddled brain thinks she means to bed, together, and my whole body stands at attention.

I look back at Mark. If I walk away, does he win? Catherine is watching me like this moment is pivotal.

I look at Lane. “Please, Miles.” My decision is made.

I shrug my jacket back on and take one swift, unsteady step, before tucking her into my side. “Don’t beg me, sweetheart,” I say into her hair.

“You’re drunk.”

“Little bit,” I admit.

“Lotta bit based on the fact that I’m holding you upright.”

I look down and realize Lane is, in fact, keeping me upright. Gives me an excuse to touch you, I don’t say.

She shakes her head. “Come on. Bed.” She guides me out of the ballroom as I try to keep my feet walking in a straight line.

“What happened with Mark?” she asks once we’re in the elevator and I’m leaning against the wall. The movement of the elevator makes me sway on unsteady legs.

“Fucking prick. He wanted to play a drinking game. If you can even call it that. He was trying to intimidate me.”

“Why does he hate you so much?”

“My mother rejected him for my father, and he never got over it. At least from what I can tell. I don’t have the whole story. He hit on her at my dad’s wake. Grabbed her arm.” I pause, feeling ill at the memory. “I pulled him off of her, even though she didn’t need me to.”

“Lovely,” Lane mutters. “Sounds like a class act.”

“Exactly. I’ve made it my mission to beat him. My dad never got to laugh in his face. So I’m doing it for him. Does that make sense? I’m very drunk.” I shut my eyes while Lane laughs softly.

“It does make sense. You’re protecting your father, just like you protect me and Liam.” She loops my arm over her shoulder as the elevator doors open. “Let’s go, tiger.”

“Tiger?” My brain is slow and unsteady, like my legs.

“That’s you. Always protecting. Even at the cost of yourself. Now lean against the wall so I can find my key.”

She searches through the evening bag I bought her. Her hair is pulled back from her face, but a few tendrils have escaped. Her eyes are done up in smoky makeup, and that ear cuff is back. It makes me want to bite her ear.

“You’re really pretty, Laney.”

“And you’re drunk.” She doesn’t look at me, but her cheeks are pink.

“Doesn’t change how pretty you are.” She helps me into the suite, and I spy the couch through the open door of her room.

“Need help pulling it out?” I should have offered before.

“Um.” Lane bites her lip. “It actually doesn’t pull out.”

“You’re kidding.”

---