Another Chance at Love (Another Series Book 1)

by Suzanne Sweeney

  “So, Ken,” Reese slurs as she leans over toward me. “Why are you still single, my beautiful friend?”

  “I almost got married once, my equally beautiful friend.”

  “That sucks. What happened?”

  “Typical story. Boy meets girl. Girl falls in love. Boy gets run over by a beer truck.” I wave her off and finish my cocktail.

  We all take a break to stretch our legs. I slip away into the bathroom for a moment of alone time. I sit and check my phone. No missed calls. No missed texts. Radio silence.

  Asshat. I know what to do! I’m going to send him a text. No words, just a poop emoji. I smile when the phone whooshes and the message sends. Ha!

  When I return, Brie is practically sitting on Joe’s lap and everyone has a drink. There’s a fresh drink waiting for me at my seat, which I gladly accept.

  Declan stands up and makes an announcement. “Round Two, new rule. All statements must have something to do with sex. The dirtier, the better. Does everyone have a drink?”

  We all hold up our glasses as Dec walks around inspecting. Once he has confirmed that everyone is ready to get fully inebriated, we begin.

  “Since this is my round, I’ll go first.” Declan sits on the edge of his seat and scans the crowd, making sure all eyes are squarely on him. “Okay. Never, have I ever . . . paid for sex.”

  Not a single one of us drinks. Phew.

  He turns to Reese. “Your turn, Red.”

  “Never, have I ever . . . repurposed a common household item as a sex toy.”

  I can’t lie. I’m supposed to drink. Maybe if I do, I’ll forget about Cole.

  Maybe.

  Probably not.

  Fuck it. Most of us girls drink, but luckily when Derek does too, all eyes immediately dart in his direction.

  “I had this girl I used to hook up with on a regular basis,” he explains. “She liked to role play. You know, she’d tell me to knock on the door and pretend I was a plumber. Stuff like that. Well, this one time, she wanted me to be her personal chef. She had all kinds of produce lined up along the counter. You name it – cucumbers, zucchini, carrots, bananas, and a bowl of ice cubes.”

  We are all speechless, no one says a word.

  Derek looks confused. “What? Vegetables count, right?”

  That’s it. The whole place erupts into laughter. I can’t believe he just told that story in front of his fiancée. And she doesn’t even bat an eye. Either she’s heard this one before or she’s the best girlfriend in history. Kudos to Shea.

  We drink to public sex, pornography, sex tapes, and the walk of shame. I raise my glass three out of four times.

  After I slam my last shot, I grab for my phone and stand. Everything spins a bit, but I brace myself on the back of the chair and take a deep breath. My head is getting fuzzy. I start thinking about the last time, and the only time, I did the walk of shame. It was the night I first met Cole.

  I start looking around for my purse. I can’t find it anywhere. I’m sure I had it when I got here.

  Declan comes over and tries to help me. “Kenny, honey – what are you looking for?”

  “My . . . um . . . purse. I have to go home now,” I tell him.

  “Why don’t you just stay here for tonight?” he asks me.

  “Here? But I don’t know whose house this is. Is it your house?”

  He grabs me by my elbow. “Forget it. I’ll take you home, come on. Let’s go.”

  Finally! That’s all I wanted. Why is he making this so difficult?

  Uh-oh, wait a minute. “You drank too,” I remind him.

  “It’s not that far. I’ll be fine.”

  Oh. “Really?” I ask as the room spins slowly around me. I’m vaguely aware of snickering happening around me but I’m too drunk to kick anyone’s ass.

  Shea giggles at me. “Kenny, you’re funny. I’m glad we became friends.”

  “Dude, you got her?” Derek asks.

  “Yeah, I got her,” Declan confirms.

  “Who you got?” I ask.

  “You, drunk girl. Come on.”

  He turns to lead me toward the house, and I start to follow him, but for some reason my feet don’t work very well. “Um, Dec?”

  “Yeah?”

  “My feet don’t work.”

  “What?” he laughs and shakes his head.

  “It’s my feet. They won’t do what I tell them to.” Why is everyone laughing at me? This is serious!

  “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He lifts me into his arms and carries me inside.

  “You don’t have to carry me.”

  “Have you fixed your feet yet?” he asks.

  I try to wiggle my toes, but nothing happens. “Nope.” Now I’m starting to get scared. “I think I’m drunk.”

  “What was your first clue?” he chuckles.

  Now that we’re inside, the room is really spinning. I close my eyes tight and bury my face in Declan’s neck. He smells good, but Cole smells better. I should tell him.

  Declan stops suddenly and almost drops me. I open my eyes and turn around, trying to focus on the figure standing in front of us. That’s when I hear his voice.

  “What the fuck?”

  CHAPTER 25

  NOT ENTIRELY CLEAR ON WHAT IS HAPPENING, I whisper into Declan’s ear. “Did Cole just say the F word?”

  “He did.”

  “Is he still standing there?”

  “He is.”

  “Am I interrupting something?” Cole asks angrily.

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact, you are,” Declan snaps back.

  I tap Declan on the shoulder to make sure he’s listening to me. “Put me down. I need to tell Cole something.”

  After finally getting some control over my feet, I look Cole right in the eyes, although I’m not sure which set of eyes are actually his. “You’re pretty. And you smell good. Most of the time. Even when you smell bad, you smell good. But not good enough.”

  There. I told him. Now he knows how mad I am. I wait for him to beg for forgiveness.

  He looks at me funny. “Kensington, how many drinks have you had tonight?” he asks.

  “I’m not drunk, you’re just blurry,” I tell him. I giggle, but just a little. I’m supposed to be mad, so I cross my arms and put on my best angry face. I take a step back and I’m glad there’s a wall to keep me from toppling, ass over teakettle.

  Hmm. I wonder what that means. How would someone’s ass fall over a teakettle? Cole has a nice ass. If he wasn’t being such as ass tonight, we might be naked in my bed right now. God, he looks good naked.

  Wait – focus.

  Cole still looks angry. He ignores me, takes a step closer to Declan and asks, “So is this what you do? Take advantage of drunken girls who had a fight with their boyfriend? That’s low, even for you.”

  Declan leans in closer to Cole. He doesn’t back down. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I think you should turn around and walk away.”

  “Yeah – you’re good at that!” I tell him.

  “Is that what you want, Kenny? Do you want me to leave?” Cole asks.

  Before I can answer, Declan jumps in. “It doesn’t matter what she wants. She’s drunk and I don’t trust you right now. You’ve hurt her enough for one day. When you walk away for good and break her heart, like I know you will, I’ll be here to pick up the pieces. I’ll always be here – we’re family. So why don’t you get the fuck out and I’ll clean up this mess that you made.”

  “Um, Declan, can I say something?” I interrupt.

  “Not now, Ken Doll. I’m taking out the trash.”

  “But I think it’s really important,” I tell him.

  “Please, just gimme one more minute,” he begs as he takes a menacing step towards Cole.

  “I don’t think it can wait,” I warn him.

  The churning ocean in my stomach leaves my body in one massive, ab-clenching heave. That’s the last thing I remember, barfing all over Cole’s shoes.


  I wake up and the room is spinning. I need to move slowly. Something or someone is stopping me from rolling over onto my back. Shit. Cautiously, I reach over with one hand, hoping to find absolutely anything other than a sleeping body.

  Careful not to make any sudden moves, I lightly pat the comforter, only to discover I’m being propped up by a row of pillows.

  How stinking drunk did I get?

  It’s time to channel my inner Encyclopedia Brown and survey the damage. Did I get table dancing drunk or blubbering idiot drunk? Did I break any laws, moral codes, or household furniture? These are critical questions that need answering.

  First discovery – there’s no one else in my bed. No naked limbs to avoid.

  Fractured memories of the previous night come slowly back to haunt me. I’m pretty sure there was a drinking game where I shared way too much information, a little drunk texting, and something about losing control over my feet – how is that even possible? I cringe. I don’t even remember coming to bed.

  Second discovery – I’m wearing just my bra and panties. No sweater. No dress. Holy shit.

  I glance at the bedside table. On it is a bottle of water and two aspirin. I sit up and take the tablets. The water helps to combat the furry tongue that has taken up residence in my mouth.

  Now that my head’s a little clearer, other things start to come into focus. There’s a strange noise in my room. I hold still and listen. It’s the sound of breathing . . . heavy breathing from either a large dog or a full-grown man . . . and I know I don’t own a dog.

  Frantically, I look around the room. I don’t see anyone at first glance. I check the floor on my side of the bed . . . empty. The floor at the foot of my bed . . . also bare. The only place left is the floor on the far side of the bed, where I find Declan asleep, curled up with a blanket and a pillow, just beginning to stir.

  The blanket covers his middle, revealing a shirtless chest and naked limbs poking out. I pray to God that there’s a pair of plaid boxers or better yet, heavy cotton sweatpants lurking beneath that blanket.

  Somberly, I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I feel like a two-year-old; if I close my eyes, then I’m not really here and this isn’t really happening.

  Reality comes crashing down upon me when I hear his voice. “Good morning, Kentucky. How are you feeling?”

  I lean back over the pile of pillows and peer down to find that he’s staring up at me, smirking. “Like a hamster died in my mouth,” I mumble. “How did I get here?” My voice is weak and ashamed.

  He sits up and rubs his face, still sleepy from what I can only surmise was a terrible night sleeping on my cold, hard floor. “I carried you up the stairs,” he answers calmly.

  “Did you put me to bed?”

  “Obviously.”

  “Did you undress me?”

  “Yup.” He waggles his eyebrows and I can immediately feel myself blush in embarrassment.

  “We didn’t—?” I mutter, my stomach in knots. How far did I let things go last night?

  “Come on, you should know me better than that, Kensie.” He stands up and begins to gather the few things he’s left on my dresser like his watch, wallet, and keys. And one of my prayers is answered – he’s not naked.

  “So that’s a no?” I ask, trying to confirm what he’s suggesting.

  “A firm no,” he reassures. “You were shit-face drunk last night. No amount of begging would have helped.”

  “Wait – are you telling me that I . . . begged . . . you to . . . you know.”

  Again, he wags his eyebrows at me. “Are you sure you want to hear this?” he asks delicately as he sits on the foot of my bed.

  I nod and shrug, pull the covers up to my chin, and wait for the morose details.

  “How much do you remember?” he asks.

  I bite my lip, ashamed to admit the few details I do remember. I have fuzzy memories of most of it – the drinking game, Declan picking me up and carrying me inside, and a vague recollection of Cole showing up. I don’t know what words were exchanged, but I seem to remember both of them yelling at each other.

  Then, nothing.

  Declan fills in the missing pieces.

  “Cole opened the front door and walked right in. He found you in my arms as I was carrying you to your bedroom. He thought I was trying to take advantage of you.” He hesitates for a minute, and then asks. “This sounds crazy, but do you have a naked picture of me on your phone?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  Declan’s eyes grow wide.

  “But you’re not completely naked.” I bury my head in my hands. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for,” he reassures me. Declan stands up again and walks toward the door. “I’m going to take a shower. Unless you’d like to shower first?”

  “No, you go ahead. I’m going to lie here a little longer and feel sorry for myself if that’s okay with you.”

  As I sit here alone, bits and pieces of the night continue to come back to me. I call out to Declan who comes rushing back in. “Um, Dec – did I throw up last night?”

  He grins. “You bet your sweet ass you did. All over Cole’s Buster Browns, as a matter of fact. I couldn’t have been more proud.”

  Again he disappears, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I’m still not completely clear on what happened with Cole. I’m not surprised that he and Declan had words – the moment I told him about our fight, I had a feeling Declan wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. But what I still don’t know is why Cole came back in the first place.

  Did he come to make a clean break? To remove any doubt or hope for a reconciliation?

  Or was it to make amends? To acknowledge our differences and to move past them?

  Who the fuck knows? My head is too fuzzy; I can’t think clearly. I have the mental capacity of a staple gun right now. My skull is still pounding with a second heartbeat and I seriously wonder if I’m about to suffer an aneurysm.

  Every muscle and joint in my body aches. I’m afraid to move too quickly. I’m shaky, dizzy, and pukey. Today is not going to be very productive. Brie and Cait are going to have to make due without me for the day.

  I somehow decide that life would be better right now if I could curl up on the couch watching Real Housewives reruns. By noon I haven’t eaten, but thanks to Declan I’ve had two cups of coffee, countless bottles of water, three Snapples, and a liter of Diet Coke. And yet, I haven’t peed once.

  “Okay, enough of this shit. Get up. We’re going out,” Declan declares.

  “The hell we are,” I moan. “You can go without me. I don’t need a babysitter. I’m pretty sure I’m no longer in danger of choking on my own puke.”

  “Do you trust me?” he asks, standing there with the keys in his hand.

  I shrug. Frankly, I don’t trust anyone right now, especially not my own judgment.

  “Here.” He tosses me a pair of flip-flops. “Put these on and let’s go. We have an appointment in fifteen minutes.”

  “Appointment?” I ask. “For what?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “I’m not going if I have to get changed.” I’m wearing my favorite comfy orange jersey beach dress.

  “Don’t worry, no one is going to care about what you’re wearing.”

  Oh, what the hell? I haven’t got much left to lose at this point.

  I shuffle into the bathroom to give myself the once-over before we leave. The reflection in the mirror actually frightens me. I still have toothpaste crust in the corners of my mouth from brushing my teeth in an attempt to get the remnants of the shit fairy out.

  After forcing a brush through my hair, I tie it up into a messy bun and decide that the world will just have to deal with me “as is”. One thing’s for sure, though – I’m not going anywhere without sunglasses. I need shielding from the sunlight so my eyes don’t fry out of their sockets.

  I offer up the keys to my new ride, which Declan quickly accepts. He turns on the seat coolers and I�
��m reminded how much I love this car. He flicks on the butt massager, and I practically melt into the seat. Damn, this feels good.

  He pulls the car into the parking lot of the White Sands Hotel, just a few blocks from my house.

  “Um, Declan, I don’t know what you think is going on here, but I’m not checking into a hotel with you.”

  “Kensington Harper, will you please stop trying to have sex with me? It’s just coming off as a little desperate,” he laughs. Declan hops out of the car, opens my door, and holds out his hand. “Let’s go.”

  I won’t budge. “I’m not setting one foot out of this car until you tell me what’s going on.”

  “I couldn’t just sit there and watch you suffer all day, so I called and made an appointment at the local spa for something called a Hangover Body Treatment.”

  Sure enough, I look up and Declan’s brought us right to the entrance of the Sea Spa & Salon at White Sands. “You’re a life saver. I haven’t had a massage in ages. This is the best idea ever. Are you going to get one, too?” I ask.

  “I’m going to take a sauna and get a foot massage.”

  I throw caution to the wind and follow Declan into the spa. While he checks us in, I grab a brochure and thumb through it trying to find out what forms of glorious torture I’m in for. On the back page, I find their “Famous Hangover Body Treatment”:

  The absolutely perfect remedy for you or the ultimate gift you can give to another. Start your experience with a natural Sea Salt Scrub that will revive and help detox your body. Followed by a hydrating milk and honey soak in our Jacuzzi where candles, refreshments, Blowfish hangover remedy drink, cold towels and cucumbers accompany you. Everything will melt away in this re-balancing and hydrating soak. To top off this re-charging experience you will receive a warm Indian Scalp Massage and our Signature Hot and Cold Face and Neck Massage. You will arise with no headache, hydrated, revitalized and ready to go. Good-bye hangover! Hello, feeling awesome!

  I can barely wait to begin. Declan and I go our separate ways and I avail myself to all the pampering they have to offer. I’m shown into the massage room where they have New Age Instrumental music playing softly as the scent of lavender candles permeates the air. I slip out of my clothes and onto the massage table, waiting for my masseuse, Casey.