Page 54 of L.O.V.E

“A blast.” She curled into me. “Where’s Natalie?”

I dared explore higher, breaching the hem of her dress. “She left.” I pulled her earlobe between my lips. “Think it’s time for us to go, too.” I stretched my fingers, dusting the curve of her ass. Fuck, it’d been so long since I’d touched her. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d made love.

She curled her face into mine, but she shifted her hips, pulling away from my touch. “Baby, I want you so bad right now, but I started my goddamn period.”

“You know I don’t care about that shit.”

Cupping her jaw, I pulled her in for a kiss. Her entire body stiffened.

“Vic,” came Martin’s voice over my shoulder, “one of your girls is getting sick in the bathroom. She’s asking for you.”

Victoria cussed into my mouth. Pulled away. She brushed soft fingers through my hair and promised, “Let me go take care of this. Be back in a sec.”

Victoria didn’t return. Forty minutes later, she sent a text to tell me she’d taken her friends back to their hotel and would call for the car when she was ready.

Martin disappeared into the sea of women.

I ordered more drinks.

Jeremy drove Lacey, Ellis, and I back to our hotel.

I opened another bottle of Jack and waited. Alone.

Natalie

“Natalie.”Bang. Bang. Bang. “Natalie, open up!”

I stood at the door, eye to the peephole, and debated whether or not to proceed.

The man outside was clearly inebriated. He swayed where he stood, his eyes unfocused, his hair rumpled. He had no business being at my hotel room. I should’ve called security.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

A man yelled from a few doors down. “Shut the fuck up!”

Oh, jeez. I couldn’t leave him out there to get arrested, or possibly beaten to a bloody pulp.

I opened the door and stood aside, anticipating the effects of alcohol mixed with gravity.

Much to my surprise, Cole didn’t fall.

Holding a bottle of Four Roses in one hand, he stumbled but caught himself on the wall. Paused. Gained his bearings. Turned his head to find me. “Natalie. Natalie King. Nat King.” He dropped his arms and swayed, then smiled and punched at this chest. “And Cole. Nat King Cole. Get it?” He laughed a hard belly laugh.

Tears streaming down his face, clutching his gut, he slid to the floor.

I closed the door, dug pain relievers out of my suitcase, snagged a water bottle out of the mini fridge, tossed the lid, then joined him on the carpet. We sat opposite each other, but a safe distance apart.

“What’s going on, Cole?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” he asked, eyes trying to focus but missing their target.

“Of course not. Why?” I offered him the bottle of water.

He swatted my hand away. “I love her, you know?”

“I know.” I didn’t know because, honestly, I knew nothing about their relationship. On purpose. Because it was none of my business.

“I’m a good catch, yeah?” He bent his legs, planted his elbows onto his knees, scrubbed a hand through his hair. “My parents raised me right. Taught me the value of hard work, integrity, how to treat the ladies in my life right. Respect.”

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