Page 47 of For Keeps. For Always.

“Brooks, you come home with us.”Koko brushes her hand along my arm as she whispers her broken English into my ear.

Throwing a shot of tequila down my throat, I squeeze her hand. “Maybe another time.”

Koko and her friend pout at me purposely.

“You make me look beautiful in my photos. We want to say thank you.”

I laugh lightly, standing and retrieving my jacket. “I did nothing, Koko. You’re beautiful all on your own.” I blow them a kiss, my cock protesting like a motherfucker as I move away from the Chinese beauties offering me one helluva good time.

Stumbling through the door of the bar, I tap my hands at my jacket pocket in search of my cigarettes. Stick held between my lips, I light it and begin the walk back to my hotel.

My conversation with Addy has been at the forefront of my mind all day.

She’s single. You’re single.

I never imagined a moment in my life when fear would leave me questioning myself. Rejection is a fickle bitch, though. I fucked up in Glasgow when I pushed Henley the way I did. What kind of fucking asshole demands that theirbest friendends their relationship for their own gain?

It only took one sleepless night to realize I was a cunt. Fourteen more to work up the courage to apologize. There was no reason to have been such a little bitch about it. But she never answered my call, and that was a reality I never imagined.

Henley blocking me out.

Again.

* * *

Groaning awake,I push the heel of my palms into my eyes, rubbing the sleep from them. I blink up at the ceiling, ignoring the way it wavers. My temples throb so thickly, I touch my fingers to them, feeling my hangover thick and steady.

The alarm clock beside my bed is blank, its cord yanked from the wall. I vaguely remember doing that at some ungodly hour this morning, the bright red figures burning my retinas through my lids.

Sitting up groggily, I pat around the hotel bed in search of my phone.

The thousand thread-count sheet drops to my waist, and I scratch at my bare chest, yawning.

My cell is dead, so I throw it back down among the sheets. Grabbing the hotel phone, I hit the number for room service, holding the receiver between my ear and shoulder.

“What time is it?” I ask rudely when a soft, feminine voice answers.

“One o’clock in the afternoon, sir.”

Fuck.

“Can you send up a cheeseburger and fries? A coffee and two cans of Coke, please?”

She recites my order back, and I grunt an affirmation into the line before hanging up.

Plugging my laptop and phone in to charge before I shower, I ignore the spilled-out minibar. Tiny alcohol bottles empty and scattered across the carpet in remnants of a sorrowful evening.

I vomit in the shower. Both ashamed and relieved as the contents of my stomach wash away with the rain of water.

After using the hotel towel to dry my cock and balls, I discard it on the floor and move toward my suitcase to pull on a pair of sweatsjustin time for a knock on my door.

Swallowing a half can of Coke in one go, I shake my head as the fizz hits my nose and eyes. It wakes me up, and I blink widely. The smell of the cheeseburger turns my stomach, so I pick at the fries as my laptop turns on.

I flick through emails, ignoring most, pausing when one burns my eyes.

Henley Wright accepted your friend request.

“What the fuck?” I murmur, throwing my half-eaten french fry onto the plate as it all comes crashing back.

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