Page 25 of I Blame the Alcohol

Keegan shakes her head with a sigh, “I always tell Jamar he should wear his more often, but he just complains it ruins his hair.”

Forcing my mind from forbidden gutters, I look across the table and exchange a supportive glance with the man who understands my pain.

Stella huffs, her exaggerated breath pressing her body tighter against mine.

“Men.”

Keegan pretends to clink an imaginary glass against Stella’s untouched water on the table. Jamar groans good-naturally and steals a glance at his watch.

“Well, as much as I love girl-bonding over male flaws, I think it’s time for us to go. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.” Jamar gives Keegan a knowing look and the one she returns leaves no question as to what type of night lies ahead for the couple.

“Right. Lots of things to do back in our… house.” With an unsubtle wink at Stella, Keegan holds out her hand for a shake, “But it was so lovely meeting you. You’ll have to teach me your cardio secrets so I can give this one a run for his money.”

Jamar slides out of the booth with a sigh, “Here we go again.”

Stella jumps up and bends over the table to latch on to Keegan’s hand. I try my best not to look, I really do, but the sequins glittering along Stella’s ass draw my attention like I’m a gemologist who specials in bedazzled jeans.

“It would be my pleasure! Take care guys.”

She plops herself back down and I bite back a sigh of relief. My own jeans are tighter than they were a minute ago but looser than they would have been if she’d stayed in that position for any longer.

The handsome couple give us one final wave then disappear into the crowd.

“They are totally going home to fuck.”

I groan at Stella’s comment, my mind and southern regions veer back into dangerous territory.

“Don’t be crude, O’Brien.”

“What? It’s true.” Bringing her long braid back over her shoulder, I watch as she tugs the elastic from the end and slowly starts unwinding the knots out of her hair.

“They plan to fuck all night long.” Stella sings the words as her fingers make quick work of the braid, silky platinum strands falling loose with the process. She wiggles her eyebrows at me, “Should we place bets on who’s going to be on top?”

I should have bought a beer when I had the chance.

“No, but I think it’s time we took you home to bed.”

Immediately regretting my word choice, I avoid Stella’s laughing gaze as I slide out the booth and hold out my hand for her. She takes it, callused fingers rough against my own, and doesn’t bother hiding the smirk taking over her face.

“What position would you like tonight, Captain? I’ve always wanted to save a horse.”

The unspokenride a cowboyhangs in the air between us, a challenge that’s as tempting as the hunger glinting in her dark blue eyes. Stella’s testing me and damn it if I don’t want to deliver the way she wants me to.

The wayIwant to.

“Don’t think my hair would make it to morning.” I take the easy way out, skimming the edges of our complicated relationship without showing my cards.

Stella snorts, seeming unfazed by my subtle rejection, “Your hair wouldn’t be the only thing that doesn’t make it to morning.”

At this point, I’m not going to make it to the end of the night.

Chapter 8

Stella

I shiver as we push through Taber’s main entrance, the cold night air biting through my thin jean jacket. Not my best weather choice by any means, but the denim-on-denim look was worth it.

“Why didn’t you bring a real coat, Stel? There was a coat check for a reason.”

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