Page 117 of The Breaking Pointe
I smile, swirling my half-full glass. “I’m okay, thank you. I’m gonna make this my last glass, I think.”
“Too strong?”She smirks.
“It’s perfect.”I roll my eyes.“I think it’s best if I stay
somewhatlevelheaded,forColton’ssake.”
She scoffs with laughter, filling her glass. “Elle, it’s not his first time drinking. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
“He drinks beer, Lauren.Not several glasses of hard liquor, back to back. It’s different,” I tell her.
“So stop him.”She shrugs, holding her glass with both hands.
“I can’t.I need to see where it goes.I want him to have fun. Even though he might not later on when he’s hugging the toilet.” I nervously bite my lip.
Lauren looks in his direction, then gently rubs my arm. “He’s handling it well, I think. You worry far more than you should.”
I nod.“Yes, but he’s using things to fill the void.I can tell. My job is to just be on standby.”
She nods, sincerely pursing her lips. “I get it. I’m gonna gather everyone to eat,” she states, squeezing my arm before walking away, gliding past a drunk Cole who is on his way to meet me.
His smirk widens the closer he gets until he’s directly in front of me.
“My sweet girl,” he says, peering down at my face as he gets close to me.
“Hi,” I say, looking up at him, feeling more edgy as I wait to feel his vibe.
“I miss you.Come talk with us?”he asks, grabbing my waist firmly and squeezing it.
“I don’t want to interrupt.Besides, we’re gonna eat.I know you’re hungry,” I combat.
His lips curl downward as he examines my face.
“Okay.Iwon’tmakeyou.Ium…Ihopemydrinking
isn’t bugging you…” he says, losing control of his wording slightly.
“Colton, you’re having fun.Okay?You’re allowed to be drunk,” I assert, placing a hand on his chest.“I need you to have fun. And eat a lot, please. The less we have to clean, the better.”
“I am starving…” he admits, licking his lips as he eyeballs me.“So…can a drunk guy get a kiss?Pretty please?”he questions me, drawing his face closer to mine.“That’s a part of my fun. Aside from making every woman jealous of you.”
His breath skitters down my neck as he brings his lips close to my jaw, kissing it softly, brushing his beard against my face.
Drunk, but still a master flirt.
“Sure…” I whisper.“You never have to ask for one of those.” His lips brush over my cheek before meeting mine, letting me taste the sweet honey flavor lingering off of the cognac he’d previously consumed. I raise some fingertips to his chin, fitting them in the field of hair that covers his face. His beard is thicker. It feels longer, too. It’s softer than silk, and smells like clove oil and chestnuts.
Musky,likealumberjack.
Drunk as he is, he kisses me just right, moving his lips against mine like he knows what moves my own lips will make without warning.Suddenly, he backs me into the counter, but pulls my body away from it when he notices. His lips run away from mine as he gasps softly.
“I’m sorry—did I hurt you?”
Batting my eyes open, I stare up at him.“Don’t be.I’m fine.”
He presses his lips against my head and grabs his glass fromthecounterbehindme,turningaroundtoseethe commotion of everyone finding a place at the dining table.
It always feels empty when he lets me go.I selfishly cannot wait until I can have him to myself later.
