Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol)

by Fiona Cole

“Two,” Nova called over Rae’s shoulder.

  “Oh, come on, Nova. You tried to get out of drinking at the last bar,” Rae whined.

  “One of us has to get us home…hopefully soon.”

  Rae rolled her eyes. “You know my driver will get us home. Just a little tappy-tap to my phone and poof, he whisks us away in a chariot.”

  “And when will you be tappy-tapping? Before we’re throwing up our lunch from last year or after?”

  “Definitely after,” Raelynn said with a smile and a wink. “That salad was a waste of time, and I want it purged from this temple.”

  Nova tried to hold her stare, but her lips pinched, the first sign of her breaking and fighting off a smile. She shook her head and gave in, her lips parting around a soft laugh. “You’re crazy.”

  “One of us has to be.”

  Grabbing my shot glass from the bar top, I winked at Nova. A camaraderie of sorts between the two non-crazy girls completely in love with a wild one. She rolled her eyes but winked back, and neither of us mentioned how she didn’t actually drink the shot, but instead, lifted it in a toast with us and quickly slid it back to the bartender.

  With the alcohol burning through my veins, mixing with the other copious amounts of drinks we’d had that night, I decided to ruffle Raelynn’s feathers.

  Apparently, she noticed Nova’s full glass because she quickly snatched it back and glared without heat while she took the shot for Nova. I waited until she’d almost emptied the glass when I struck.

  “Besides, Nova. She probably is hoping for an excuse to drunk text Austin, and he’ll come to her rescue. That way, she can grind all over him and say it’s just because she was drunk and not in love.”

  Raelynn coughed hard, barely avoiding spraying us with tequila. She slapped the glass down with a thunk that matched the beat of the bass flooding the dark bar and glared over her hand covering her mouth.

  Nova and I laughed.

  “I. Am. Not. In lo—” she coughed, either from the alcohol still in her lungs or because Raelynn tended to choke over the word when it wasn’t with us. “It’s not like that between Austin and me.”

  “Of course not,” Nova said, her words dripping with sarcasm.

  I snorted because while Nova could look like a deer in headlights when she faced off with Raelynn, she always won with her sarcastic comments. She was a death by a thousand cuts, while Rae was a wrecking ball.

  “So, you’re saying if Austin came in and offered to let you climb him like the tree he is, you would turn him down?”

  She lifted an arrogant brow. “No, because I hope all of him is as big as a tree, and I never turn down something that can make me feel that good.”

  Austin was Raelynn’s other best friend—the complete opposite of her. They met at a college party her sophomore year and somehow became friends, despite her best effort to sleep with him. I think Raelynn liked—and probably hated a little—that he was the first guy to not want to sleep with her. She was all city, and he came from a farm in upstate New York.

  Their friendship was…intriguing, and Nova and I may or may not have a bet on them being married by the time they were forty.

  “Besides, he’s visiting family and not in town.”

  “Is he your date for the wedding?” I asked.

  “Of course. Friends to weddings are perfect. And I’ve seen him in a tux once and, damn, that man fills out a suit better than anyone.”

  “That poor man,” Nova laughed. “How he’s fended you off, I’ll never know.”

  Raelynn shrugged, unapologetic of her objectification of her friend. “Three more shots,” she said to the bartender, eying Nova with a challenging stare.

  This time she obediently drank, not even wincing. Deep down, we all knew how much Nova liked tequila. My rebel side sat closer to the surface than hers, but she still had one—and Naughty Nova loved tequila.

  The lights flashed, and the club enveloped us in one remixed song after another without consuming our words. We stood at the corner of the long bar, swaying to the music, laughing, and talking. We had to shout a little, but not so much we’d be hoarse in the morning.

  “Question,” I started, holding up my finger like I was preparing a declaration. Both girls laughed when I had to close my eyes and brace my hand on the bar for a moment because the alcohol hit me a little too hard. I shook it off and continued. “Is it really a bachelorette party if it’s not a real marriage?”

  “Why isn’t it a real marriage? It’s legal. You live together. You’re sharing assets,” Raelynn ticked off each argument.

  “Because it’s not. It’s an arrangement. Like a business contract.”

  “Was that not what it was between you and Camden? Isn’t that what your parents planned the whole time?”

  I shuddered at the mention of Camden. “This is different.”

  “How?” Nova asked.

  “It just is.” My brain struggled to form a coherent argument with all the liquor.

  “Would you have fucked Camden?” Raelynn asked.

  I fake-gagged.

  “That’s a yes.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m choosing this and not anyone else. I figured if I chose my husband, it would be for love.”

  “Love-shmove.” She waved the word away like a fly. “You’ve just upgraded your arranged marriage package deal. I call it a win.”

  “Camden was pretty bad,” Nova added.

  “It just all feels fake,” I said, waving my hands around to encompass the room.

  “Does the sash not make you feel like a real bride to be?” Raelynn asked with mock seriousness, her hand on my shoulder.

  I looked down, stroking the cheap satin and rough, patchy glitter, declaring my status. The stark white material stood out against my black top and black leather pants, making it impossible to miss. Which was why we were so drunk. People loved to buy drinks for a bachelorette party.

  “If that doesn’t, then the tiara and bouquet of flowers should,” Nova said.

  “Too much?” Raelynn asked, her face scrunched up with fake concern.

  “No,” I said.

  “A bit,” Nova said at the same time.

  Raelynn shrugged, striking a pose like a supermodel, showing off her dark yellow silk top and black leather mini-skirt. “Tough shit. I’m too much, and you bitches love it.”

  And just like that, we moved on from the edge of my deeper concerns. That was the joy of being drunk. Honesty came pouring out, just to be washed away by a random joke—shoved back down where it needed to stay buried.

  “We love you.” I wobbled the two steps and wrapped my arms around her.

  I opened an arm for Nova to join, and she came in, slapping a kiss against both our cheeks. Her focus shifted behind us, and her lips parted, only to snap closed just as quick, before smiling at Raelynn.

  “I love you so much that I want to take you home before you hate yourself.”

  A chorus of boos from both of us met her declaration.

  “Come on. Where’s Naughty Nova?” Raelynn asked, searching Nova’s face like she’d find Nova’s inner party girl hiding in her eyes.

  Nova was the stable one. The one that gave in last to Raelynn’s antics. But when she did, she gave in full force.

  “We fed her tequila. Why won’t she come out to play?” Raelynn asked, looking to me with a pout.

  “Maybe she wants to dance. We haven’t danced enough,” I added.

  “Naughty Nova does love to dance.”

  We closed in, and she half-heartedly tried to shove us back, laughing as we danced around her. I turned and leaned my back to her chest, rubbing my hands down my body all the way to my feet. With my legs still straight, I did my best ass-shake to Raelynn’s catcalls. A firm slap to my ass had me pulling upright and glaring at Raelynn.

  “You liked it.”

  I flashed back to Nico carrying me into the bedroom against my will and slapping my ass. I remembered the heat that bloomed, and I remembered how
much I had liked it. The same heat came back with a force, not because of Raelynn, but because every time I thought of him, my body softened like it was preparing to give in.

  “Come on, Nova. We have to get this bride-to-be so liquored up she stops being a stubborn bitch and finally bounces on her fiancé like a pogo stick.”

  I shoved Raelynn and stumbled back in my spiky heels. “Stop it.”

  “Many more drinks, and she won’t be able to stand,” Nova laughed, holding me steady.

  “You don’t need to stand to fuck.”

  Nova blushed; the dark club unable to hide the heat flooding her freckled cheeks.

  “Okay, okay. Serious-time.” Raelynn turned to me and held two fingers to her eyes before pointing at me. “Just one question. Please.”

  “Fine,” I said, already knowing I’d regret it.

  “The fucking? Was it good? Great? Epic? Bad? What? Hit me with a number? One-to-ten.”

  I sighed. Part in defeat, part in dreamy remembrance. “The. Fucking. Best. Like a twenty.”

  “Damn,” she breathed. “And you didn’t even get undressed. Okay, how big?”

  I blamed the alcohol for answering as honestly as I did. “I didn’t get to see. He was behind me the whole time. But he felt big and so, so good. Big like you imagine Austin to be.”

  “Damn,” she said again. “I bet your poor vibrator is getting a workout.”

  Nova choked on her water. Raelynn slapped her on the back but kept going.

  “Will you please just fuck him. For us. We know you want to.”

  I curled my lip and was a second away from crossing my arms and stomping my feet. “I don’t want to want to.”

  “But you do want to,” Raelynn exclaimed, pointing her finger at me victoriously.

  “I’m definitely done with this conversation.”

  “But I’m so interested to know.”

  I wanted to blame the liquor in my veins for hearing the familiar deep voice. Like my imagination conjured the rough rumble that haunted my dreams. But the words stroked down my bare back, heating my core—too intense to not be real.

  That and Raelynn’s brows trying to merge with her hairline as she focused over my shoulder let me know this was no figment of my imagination.

  Twenty-Two

  Vera

  I whirled around, coming face to face with a perfect row of black buttons I followed up to a strong neck into dark scruff that led to his full, smirking lips. After lingering there for too long, I finally met his eyes, dark pools of even darker promises just waiting to be fulfilled.

  “Ho—How long have you been here?”

  The real question was how much he had heard.

  Actually, the real question was why he was here, but my mind stumbled over itself, trying to process the situation.

  “Not too long. I’d say I walked in just in time.” He scanned me from head to toe, his examination like a finger’s touch, leaving fire in its wake. “That was some impressive…what’s that word called? Twerking? Nova looked a little uncomfortable, but I’d be happy for you to perform that dance on me any time.”

  My eyes widened, and my jaw dropped open. The world swayed, the lights flashing in a blur around me, all focusing in on Nico’s smirking face.

  “Oh my god.” The least intelligible words, but all I could manage to mutter in my drunken shock as I tried to imagine what he saw. As I was unable to not imagine what he suggested: me dancing for him.

  “I taught her all she knows,” Raelynn chimed in, pulling me from the image.

  “How did you find us?” I asked.

  He glanced over my shoulder, and I followed his gaze to a wincing Nova.

  “You little tattletale,” Raelynn scolded with a tiny shove.

  Nova, completely unrepentant, rolled her eyes. “It’s for your own good. You sure as shit weren’t giving up your driver’s phone number, and I know Vera’s passcode. It was the only way to stop us all from vomiting in some back alley with a homeless man who would ask us if we wanted to live in his box.”

  “That was one time,” Raelynn defended.

  I snorted, vaguely remembering that night. It’d been fun. At least until that moment. I wasn’t sure which had been scarier, the homeless man threatening to keep us in his alley forever or Austin storming down the street and taking us home in the chilliest silence ever.

  “One of many,” Nova said.

  “Nova’s never going to forgive you for that,” I managed to get out through my drunken giggles.

  If I remembered correctly, Nova had been his favorite.

  “Fine,” Raelynn caved. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin like a princess who knew she was wrong but wouldn’t admit it. A princess with ample cleavage perfectly displayed in her low V-neck.

  I fully expected Nico to be staring at her chest—hell, I was. Instead, I found him looking at me, his smile gone and a look of cautious curiosity, like he was doing a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out but couldn’t wait to see it all together.

  “Silver lining is that Vera gets to deal with the man picking her up this time, and I kind of like that he overheard her admit she wants to fuck him.”

  “Raelynn fucking Vos.”

  Now it was my turn to glare, Nova’s turn to laugh, and Raelynn’s turn to shrug unrepentantly. We made a hell of a group.

  “I love you, bitches,” Nova announced, hopping down off the stool. She wrapped an arm around us both and smacked a kiss to our cheeks. “Now, let’s get the hell out of here. Nico can only take his eyes off Vera when he’s watching us banter. Seriously, it’s like watching a cat watch a tennis game. Hilarious,” she announced.

  I snorted a laugh and blushed. Had Nico been watching only me? I forced myself to look at the girls, afraid to find a denial if I gave the comment too much attention.

  Raelynn smacked Nova’s ass and returned the kiss. “You’re lucky I love you.”

  “Sure am.” She turned us to face Nico. “Where to, sir?”

  He took us in. Two overly drunk girls hanging on a slightly less drunk girl. He lingered on me, and I held my breath, waiting for him to deny Nova’s accusation. Instead, he shook his head, huffing a laugh. “I’ve got my car with the valet, and my driver is around the corner. I figured I’d take Vera home, and you two could go with Xavier.”

  With a nod, Nova led us past him to the door. More cheek kisses, ass slaps, and hugs commenced before Nova finally managed to pull Raelynn into the backseat, leaving me to collapse into Nico’s car.

  The buttery soft leather and heated seats cradled my heavy body. I wanted to stay awake. I wanted to see if he’d say anything else about what he overheard. I wanted to watch his profile in the flash of the city lights shining through the windows as we drove past. Instead, the hum of the engine lulled me to sleep.

  I jerked awake when two strong arms slipped under my back and thighs and hefted me against an even warmer chest.

  “Shit,” I slurred. “I can walk.”

  He didn’t bother responding. Especially when, despite my objections to being carried, I still wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head on his shoulder.

  Everywhere he touched, I burned like fire. It spread from his fingers, digging into my ribs, up my chest, and down to my core. I followed the path of the heat through my limbs, becoming both more relaxed and tense with need all at once.

  The world swayed when he stepped from the elevator and walked down the dimly lit hallway to our front door.

  Our.

  Maybe it was the seven shots of tequila or earlier champagne with dinner, but somewhere through the night, calling his home our home settled a broken, floating piece about our upcoming marriage.

  “Can you stand?”

  “Yup.”

  He shook his head when I popped my p, but I caught his smile before he turned to unlock the door.

  He held the door open, and I stumbled through, heading down the hall to our bedroom. He followed behind, picking up my carelessly dropped items. My
shoes. My purse. My sash. My tiara.

  “Should I expect this sash and tiara at the wedding?” he joked, laying it on the dresser.

  “Maybe. I think the hot pink glitter might go well with our cream peonies. Think we could add a new color scheme last minute?”

  He snorted, watching me undo my pants.

  Shit.

  Realizing I was undressing in front of him, I turned to head to the closet. All while still trying to get my pants off.

  Halfway there, I focused too much on getting my hands under the waistband of my leather pants and stumbled over nothing.

  Rough hands spanned across my ribs, keeping me from face-planting.

  “Are you okay?”

  My body shook. Laughter started in my chest and slowly worked its way free. He turned me around and pushed my once perfectly curled hair, but now a sweaty, tangled mess, from my face, even taking care to pluck the few strands from my eyelashes.

  “Oh, my god. I’m just going to live in these pants now. There’s no way I’m getting them off,” I claimed through peals of laughter.

  “I’d suggest baby powder and lotion, but then it might turn into a paste.”

  My jaw dropped. “You watch Friends,” I squealed in excitement.

  I realized the pitch I’d reached when his eyes widened before he exaggeratedly winced and rubbed at his ears.

  “Oh, shut up,” I said, shoving his hard shoulder.

  Of course, having much more mass and a better center of gravity than me, he stood still, and I stumbled back. He gripped my waist again, and I went back to laughing.

  “How much did you have to drink?”

  “A lot. We kind of started at Raelynn’s place when we were getting ready.”

  “At four?”

  “We at least waited until five.”

  “It’s two-thirty now.”

  “Damn. I’m kind of impressed I’m still standing.”

  “Well, I am holding you up.”

  “Very true.” I tapped his chest and nodded like he’d imparted some epic knowledge.

  I sighed, my shoulders dropping as the adrenaline of the night left my body with each passing second. I eyed my leather pants, remembering thinking they were the best idea ever and now wanting to just cut them off.