“Interesting.” She narrows her eyes on me curiously. “And what about the four P’s?”
“Uh.” I pause, trying to remember the first part of the nursing acronym. I’m pretty drunk, and I have no fucking clue why she’s asking me about this right now. “Pain, potty—”
“Physicians, Morg,” she corrects, looking at me like I’m the biggest idiot in the world. “You refuse to date anyone whose job title starts with the letter P, remember?”
Oh . . . that.
First of all, everyone has hard rules that we swear to follow until we meet someone who makes us want to break them—it’s called growth.
Second of all, Cass should be happy that I’m joining her stupid doctor dating club. She’s been teasing me about Walker since the engagement party, so the fact that she appears shocked right now is bizarre. If I’m so easy to read, how the hell could she not read this?
“We’re not dating,” I state simply, though earlier today I almost said that I would just to get him to stop talking to other women at the pool party. “We’re just friends.”
Cass gives me an amused glare, waiting for more.
“That hookup,” I add.
She sips her drink with a smirk.
“Exclusively.”
Her smirk transforms into a smile, and I roll my eyes.
Fine—if she wants me to admit something to her that I only just admitted to myself, I need more shots.
I wave for another round, needing to brace myself for what’s turned into a much deeper conversation than I anticipated. The bartender quickly sets down two more lemon drops, and I grab one, tossing it back before Cass can even reach for hers.
“I think I really like him,” I admit, watching my best friend wince as the liquor goes down. “It’s disgusting. And I hate it. And I’ve tried to stop, but he’s just . . . he’s just really patient.”
While everyone was getting ready for the evening, Walker and I had a talk. I still have no idea what, specifically, I want. But today I realized that I know who I want—and it’s him.
Cass puts her glass down on the bar, her expression softening. “You want more.”
It’s not a question—it’s a statement that I wholeheartedly agree with.
“I want more,” I echo.
“More what?” Parker interrupts, wrapping his arms around his fiancée. The second button on his white shirt is undone, peeping a smattering of chest hair that Cass leans into.
“Yeah. What do you want more of?” Walker asks as he comes up behind me. His huge hands thread around my hips, pulling me against him so close that I can feel his hard cock pressed against my lower back.
I gulp and glance hesitantly at Cass. She winks at me before responding, “More fun. Wanna go to another bar?”
Parker kisses her neck affectionately. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”
The last thing I remember from the night is my best friend drunkenly running down a random street in Las Vegas and belting out “Can’t Help Falling In Love” by Elvis Presley.
Chapter 28
Walker
Igroan, throwing a pillow over my face as the pounding pain in my head hits an all-time high. Maybe if I shut my eyes again and try to fall back asleep, the pulsating torture will magically go away.
But the second I do, the pounding gets worse . . . and louder.
Why the fuck is it getting louder?
“Can you go get it?”