Page 39 of Just This Once

“Holy shit. Shit, shit, shit!” Flying off the bed backward, I stumbled in reverse until my spine cracked against the wall.

There, I gaped at Raina who was also scurrying off the bed as if she couldn’t escape it fast enough. I watched her tumble into the opposite wall, where she hovered against the Sheetrock, clutching her nightshirt to her chest and pressing her legs together as if trying to hide everything from me.

We blinked at each other for a good second before she croaked, “Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

I blurted out a dry laugh. “No shit.” Glancing toward the chair where Foster usually camped out, I motioned aggressively. “And where the fuck is Union?”

Raina frowned at the chair as well. “I don’t know.Foster?” she lifted her voice, calling.

“Yeah?” he answered from the other end of the apartment, completely oblivious to the fact that I’d just been feeling up his girlfriend.

Narrowing my eyes in outrage, I pushed away from the wall and stormed from the bedroom. He was just exiting the kitchen as I entered the living room.

“Where the fuck were you?” I raged, glaring at him as if this was all his fault.

“Uh…” He blinked at me in confusion before slowly lifting a glass full of clear liquid with ice. “I was getting a drink.”

“Give me that!” I snapped, stalking forward and snagging the vodka from his hand, only to take a big gulp and promptly spit it out, shuddering. “Gah. What the fuck is this?”

Foster furrowed his brows in question before uttering, “Water.”

“Ugh.” I made a sour face and shoved it back at him before marching toward the kitchen. “I need somethingsomuch stronger than that right now.”

“What the hell happened?” he asked, trailing after me.

“I got handsy with your girlfriend, that’s what the hell happened,” I groused, going straight to the first cabinet I saw and throwing it open, only to find cereal and granola bars and macaroni and all the worthless shit that contained no alcohol whatsoever.

From the kitchen entrance, Foster blinked. “What, really?”

“Yes, fucking really. I grabbed her thigh and was working my way up before I came to and realized what the hell I was doing.”

“But it’s okay,” Raina assured, appearing at Foster’s side in the entrance of the kitchen.

When I glanced at her with lifted eyebrows to disagree, she clung to her boyfriend as if she were traumatized and never wanted to let him go again.

“I knew it wasn’tmehe thought he was touching,” she went on, shifting her gaze back to Foster. “Since he was dreaming about?—”

“No!” I warned, stabbing a finger in her direction. “Don’t you dare.”

Foster turned to his girl fully. “Who was he dreaming about?”

Her eyes widened right back before she leaned close and whispered, “Hope.”

“Red!” I shouted in outrage.

“I’m sorry,” she wailed. “I couldn’t help it.” Bringing her fingers up to her mouth to start chewing on the nails, sheconfessed, “It was just too juicy. And he’s Foster. I couldn’tnottell Foster.”

Spinning to me, Foster dropped his jaw and blurted, “You had a sex dream aboutHope?”

“No,” I growled before I pointed condemningly at Raina, warning her to keep her damn mouth shut. “No.” And then because I couldn’t stand it being true, I repeated, “No,” for a third time.

“He totally did,” Raina told her boyfriend.

Gnashing my teeth, I groaned out a sound of miserable rage and slammed the cabinet door shut. “If either of you breathes a word of this to anyone, I swear to God, I’ll murder the pair of you in your sleep.”

Both Foster and Raina bobbed their heads in unison.

“And where the fuck do you keep your alcohol?” I demanded, flinging the next cabinet door away from me in disgust when I found nothing in there either.

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