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Authors: Lola Stark
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her on her bed, I went and grabbed a wash cloth and gently wiped her face with warm water. Somehow, I managed to find it in me to chuckle as I wiped the sick from her chin. I knew tomorrow would be fun when I retold this story to her.
I managed to get her sitting up on the edge of the bed, giving me enough time to quickly remove my vomit-laced jeans and throw them to the floor. I grabbed a tank for her to sleep in, then removed her hip-hugging jeans and halter top. Once I laid her down in bed, she reached up, stroked my face and babbled, “You were just supposed to be a one night stand but you poked my eye, and kissed me sweet and listened to my car. Now, I kinda wanna keep you.”
Then she promptly passed out.
I was sitting outside on my small deck with a cup of coffee contemplating just what the hell to do. Not only about the Mace situation, but my display of pure dumbassery the previous night.
Way to go dipshit. Nothing better than drunken girl vomit.
When there was a knock on the door, I answered, knowing it would be Mace to pick me up for his Mother’s Sunday lunch. It had taken the better part of the morning to get my stomach to stop rolling and my head to stop pounding as if a marching band had taken up residence. I wasn’t sure whether Mace would even show up, let alone if I would go with him. If somebody had drunk dialed me, I would have been super peed off, but even worse, had said person puked on me, I would have run away so fast there’d be flames behind me and smoke coming from my thighs.
I was contemplating what to do—of course I would apologize. It was when I’d gotten a text from Mace telling me to bring a bathing suit, and that Trip had taken Teeny home to get changed and would be bringing her along. It was at that point, I’d decided that I needed to make my intentions with him perfectly clear. I also knew I was who I was. I was just me. I did stupid shit, and I did it often. If Mace didn’t like it, well too damn bad, and besides, it wasn’t like it mattered. This thing—us—it was just a bit of fun. Naked fun at that, so that meant the dating shit had to stop and pronto. There was no need for feelings to be involved. I knew from personal experience how badly it could go when you started doing stupid things like falling for somebody.
I opened the door to Mace. A smile played on his lips. Wearing black and white printed board shorts and a white T-shirt pulled tight over his chest and arms, the sight of him standing, looking so irresistible, made my mouth water.
“Come in. I’ll just grab my things and we can leave,” I managed to say without checking my chin for drool. I turned away avoiding his gaze. Okay, so I was a little tiny bit embarrassed.
“Scarlett, look at me,” he said, amusement lacing his voice.
“About last night, I—”
Mace cut me off mid apology. “Babe, don’t worry about it. You were drunk and kinda cute.”
“I puked on you, Mace. That’s really gross and I’d be super pissed if it was me, so, I’m sorry.”
“Scar, come here,” he said on a laugh.
I hadn’t moved; the sight of him laughing had me glued to the spot. His face completely transformed with the laughter; it was a look so completely different from the way he usually held himself, like for a moment, he’d let go of whatever it was that hurt within.
There I stood, just staring at his amazing blue eyes, the sound of his amusement stirring something inside of me, warming my stomach. Mace had a fantastic laugh, all deep and rumbly.
“Here, babe” The slightly commanding tone in his voice had me moving that time. It would have made me want to do anything he asked of me. That in turn annoyed me.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I wasn’t a little play thing, a puppy he could command just because it turned me on. Shit—I was turning into one of those chicks—I hated those chicks. The type who chased after their guy. The thought pulled me up short. He wasn’t my guy, not even
I managed to get her sitting up on the edge of the bed, giving me enough time to quickly remove my vomit-laced jeans and throw them to the floor. I grabbed a tank for her to sleep in, then removed her hip-hugging jeans and halter top. Once I laid her down in bed, she reached up, stroked my face and babbled, “You were just supposed to be a one night stand but you poked my eye, and kissed me sweet and listened to my car. Now, I kinda wanna keep you.”
Then she promptly passed out.
I was sitting outside on my small deck with a cup of coffee contemplating just what the hell to do. Not only about the Mace situation, but my display of pure dumbassery the previous night.
Way to go dipshit. Nothing better than drunken girl vomit.
When there was a knock on the door, I answered, knowing it would be Mace to pick me up for his Mother’s Sunday lunch. It had taken the better part of the morning to get my stomach to stop rolling and my head to stop pounding as if a marching band had taken up residence. I wasn’t sure whether Mace would even show up, let alone if I would go with him. If somebody had drunk dialed me, I would have been super peed off, but even worse, had said person puked on me, I would have run away so fast there’d be flames behind me and smoke coming from my thighs.
I was contemplating what to do—of course I would apologize. It was when I’d gotten a text from Mace telling me to bring a bathing suit, and that Trip had taken Teeny home to get changed and would be bringing her along. It was at that point, I’d decided that I needed to make my intentions with him perfectly clear. I also knew I was who I was. I was just me. I did stupid shit, and I did it often. If Mace didn’t like it, well too damn bad, and besides, it wasn’t like it mattered. This thing—us—it was just a bit of fun. Naked fun at that, so that meant the dating shit had to stop and pronto. There was no need for feelings to be involved. I knew from personal experience how badly it could go when you started doing stupid things like falling for somebody.
I opened the door to Mace. A smile played on his lips. Wearing black and white printed board shorts and a white T-shirt pulled tight over his chest and arms, the sight of him standing, looking so irresistible, made my mouth water.
“Come in. I’ll just grab my things and we can leave,” I managed to say without checking my chin for drool. I turned away avoiding his gaze. Okay, so I was a little tiny bit embarrassed.
“Scarlett, look at me,” he said, amusement lacing his voice.
“About last night, I—”
Mace cut me off mid apology. “Babe, don’t worry about it. You were drunk and kinda cute.”
“I puked on you, Mace. That’s really gross and I’d be super pissed if it was me, so, I’m sorry.”
“Scar, come here,” he said on a laugh.
I hadn’t moved; the sight of him laughing had me glued to the spot. His face completely transformed with the laughter; it was a look so completely different from the way he usually held himself, like for a moment, he’d let go of whatever it was that hurt within.
There I stood, just staring at his amazing blue eyes, the sound of his amusement stirring something inside of me, warming my stomach. Mace had a fantastic laugh, all deep and rumbly.
“Here, babe” The slightly commanding tone in his voice had me moving that time. It would have made me want to do anything he asked of me. That in turn annoyed me.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I wasn’t a little play thing, a puppy he could command just because it turned me on. Shit—I was turning into one of those chicks—I hated those chicks. The type who chased after their guy. The thought pulled me up short. He wasn’t my guy, not even
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