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  She pursed her plump lips, drawing my eyes there like a homing pigeon. “I came home from work and caught my boyfriend cheating on me.”

  “Damn.” I signaled Evan that we needed more alcohol. “You win.”

  She nodded, finishing her second drink. “He was bare assed and fucking some chick over the back of our couch.” When Evan set our drinks in front of us, she immediately reached for hers. “He’d failed to mention in the last eight months that he wasn’t really ‘into monogamy.’”

  I shook my head in disgust. “Gotta be honest up front.”

  Hollie’s pretty blue eyes narrowed. “You tell women before you start dating them that you don’t believe in monogamy?”

  I scoffed. “Of course not.” I took a sip of my whiskey. “I don’t date.”

  “Just fuck.”

  I clenched my jaw, trying like hell not to smile. I loved the way her lips formed words like fuck. Hollie was unbelievably gorgeous, and she had a mouth on her that could easily cut you to your knees. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and she was smart. Too smart to ever get mixed up with the likes of me. Travis or Trevor or whatever her boyfriend’s name was, he was a moron. “How any man could cheat on you is beyond me.”

  Whoa. Where had that come from?

  How many whiskeys had I had? Three? Four?

  Evan was a shit bartender. I needed to be cut off.

  Chapter Seven

  Holland

  My banner day was capped off by the fact that I was sitting next to Brice Huntington in the middle of a yuppie Dallas bar. I was now on my third—or was it my fourth?—vodka tonic. I gave myself a mental headshake because I didn’t even care that I’d lost track. If anyone deserved to be drunk in this fine establishment, it was me.

  No boyfriend and, therefore, no apartment.

  “Thanks for buying me all these drinks.” I sent the douche canoe next to me a genuine smile.

  “Misery loves company, and heavily drinking alone at a bar is in bad taste.” He shrugged like he’d handed me some real pearls of wisdom there. “I’m sorry your boyfriend turned out to be a lying cheating asshole.”

  I knocked my glass against his, hitting it a little harder than I’d originally meant to and making some of the amber liquid spill over the rim. “I’m sorry all the poor women you slept with at work banded together to ruin your career.”

  “No you aren’t.” He snorted and threw back the rest of his drink.

  It was no secret that I hated Brice’s pretentious player ways. The way he thought he was always above it all bugged me. “I think you got what was coming to you, but I can still sympathize with your disappointment.”

  He turned in his chair, fixing his dark gaze on me. “I don’t lie to women. I don’t promise them the world to get them in my bed. I tell them upfront what I’m looking for. And I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am, to get to this promotion. I didn’t deserve what happened today. I don’t deserve their wrath.”

  “You don’t think so?” How many women did the man think he could fuck and dump before they joined forces against him?

  “I don’t think it’s my fault that chicks always think they can change me. That they always think they’re the one I’ll settle down for, that they’re the one who’ll capture my heart.”

  Maybe he had a point there. If he was honest and he was upfront about who he was and what he was looking for, was it really his fault? Or was it these women, these delusional women with hearts in their eyes. Yeah, I’d had too much to drink if I was thinking those thoughts.

  “You gonna be like this forever?” I wrinkled my nose, polishing off the drink in front of me. “You know, like, a sexy player type.”

  His eyebrows rose to his perfect hairline. “You think I’m sexy?”

  “No.” Wait. Had I called him sexy? Holy crap, the cute bartender needed to cut me off. “I meant slutty. Slutty player type.”

  His eyes stayed on mine, searching, like he was looking for the answer to a question he hadn’t asked out loud. I stared right back, mostly because I was drunk, but a little bit because he was so damn handsome. If he’d only keep his mouth shut and his dick in his pants, he’d be tolerable to be around.

  “I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever change. But I know that right now I love my life and I’m having a fucking blast, Hollie baby.”

  I felt tears prick the back of my eyelids. “I wish I was having a fucking blast.”

  Chapter Eight

  Brice

  “You want to have fun?” I stood from my chair and held my hand out to the gorgeous tear-stained girl who had spent the last hour drowning her sorrows next to mine. “Let’s have some.”

  Hollie eyed my extended palm, looking like she was having one hell of an internal debate. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of her seat and onto the small dance floor.

  I couldn’t stand to see her heartbroken over some douchebag who would probably never deserve her anyway. I liked Hollie sassy and throwing shade my way. That was normal. Forlorn and devastated were not.

  The music pumping through the sound system was fast, and remarkably sexual as all good drinking music is. I put my hands on her hips, moving her, and making her finally crack a bit of a smile. “There you go. See? This is better than being a sad bump on a barstool, right?”

  I danced around her, letting the whiskey guide my movements.

  “Marginally.” She started to move on her own, her smile growing. “But you’re a terrible dancer.”

  I shook my head. “No I’m not. I’m just having much more fun than you are.” I didn’t know anyone here, and at the moment I needed to dance off the funk of my day.

  I wasn’t about to abandon her in search of my usual form of release, and I knew I wasn’t getting Hollie into my bed. So drinking and dancing my ass off with the girl who would go back to hating me tomorrow was what I had to work with.

  In almost no time at all, guys started to flock to Hollie. And why wouldn’t they? She was gorgeous and sexy; her laughter was lighting up the fucking room like fireworks on the fourth of July. But every time one would approach her, she’d step closer to me. Her body would momentarily move against mine and my hands would itch to touch her smooth skin. I found that I liked being her safe space, if only for a minute. I liked that I was her choice over every other guy in the room.

  And of course I decided not to examine that feeling too closely, because really, what was the point? I was me and she was her, and we would only exist in this moment of unity until the music stopped.

  Chapter Nine

  Holland

  Brice was holding my hand, spinning me around every few minutes and making sure I stayed away from overeager strangers. We’d been dancing like drunk teenagers for the last hour and my face hurt from giggling so much.

  I never, in my entire life, thought I’d be having this much fun with Brice Huntington. I spent a great deal of time disliking the pompous jerk, but I simply couldn’t deny that he had been the one to pull me out of my pity party and put a smile on my face.

  Well, him and the large quantities of vodka I’d consumed tonight.

  I didn’t drink often, but for sure I’d tied one on the minute I stepped inside the swanky hotel bar I’d chosen for its proximity to Cueva. In my sad and shocked state, I figured I’d treat myself to a weekend’s stay at the upscale hotel.

  Shit. That reminded me I needed to try to book a room before the concierge desk closed. I pulled my hand closer to my face out of Brice’s grip, trying to gauge the time. Wow. The numbers were all moving and pulsing to the beat of the house music.

  “Why are you glaring at your watch like that?” Brice moved his mouth to my ear, speaking loudly over the speakers.

  I suppressed a shiver. Brice Huntington did not give me the shivers, I didn’t care how much vodka I’d poured down my throat. I took a step away from him, searching the room for a larger clock with numbers that would stay still and do their damn job.

  “I’m trying to see what ti
me it is, I need to book a room.” Did they not want people to know the hour? Was this like one of those casino tricks where they want you to forget what day it was? “Is your watch working? Mine is broken.” I held up my wrist to show him and he chuckled.

  Ugh, that sexy, self-assured chuckle of his. It made me sick and, oddly enough, a little weak in the knees.

  “It’s almost midnight.” He pulled me close and started moving with the music again. “It’s too late to get a room. You can crash at my place.”

  I put my hands on my hips, standing still while he moved around me. “I most certainly am not staying at your place.” Even as I protested, I knew I’d probably have to take him up on the offer.

  The only places open for booking a room after midnight probably had more bodily fluids on the sheets than Brice’s whorehouse would.

  He rolled his eyes, still dancing. “Stop being such a brat, Hollie.” He gyrated in a hilarious circle and when he got behind me, I felt his hands go to my hips. His lips were against my ear again. “I’m offering you a place to sleep, that’s all.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep, calming breath. I couldn’t like his lips against my ear. I couldn’t enjoy the feel of his hands on my body. He was Brice and I was Holland. We were mortal enemies, and he was everything I disliked in this world. But damn did he smell good.

  I turned to face him, standing still in the middle of his solo dance party. “That’s nice of you to offer. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He took my hands and held them over my head. “Now dance with me. It’s almost last call.”

  ***

  Brice’s house looked different than I’d imagined it. I thought everything would be black leather and glass. Maybe some sex swings hanging from the ceiling and Playboys stacked neatly on his coffee table.

  Instead everything was rich and warm. Dark green pillows made his brown leather couch look comfy and inviting. The whole place smelled like the same tobacco and patchouli candle that Cassie had put in Dec’s office at Cueva. The floors were wood, but Brice had large rugs in every room. Rugs that probably cost more than my car, but still, they were beautiful.

  “I thought your place would look like a brothel.”

  “Nah.” Brice plopped down on the couch, throwing his arm over the back of it and kicking off his shoes. “I keep all the kinky stuff down in the basement.”

  I could feel his eyes track me as I walked around his living room, studying the framed pictures on his mantel. There was one of him and Wyllie that would have made my heart melt if I didn’t know any better. Brice was tickling his nephew’s belly and Wyllie was laughing.

  “You don’t have to stand up all night.”

  I turned to see him patting the sofa beside him. I opened my mouth to make yet another shitty remark, but then thought better of it. He’d had a bad day, like I had. But he’d pushed aside his crap to help me have fun and forget about mine for a moment. And now, he was offering me a place to sleep. Me. A girl who cock-blocked him daily and called him a douche canoe at least once a week.

  “Thanks for letting me crash here tonight.” I sat, kicking off my heels and curling up against the opposite arm of the couch. “I really do appreciate it.” I laid my head on the soft green pillow and closed my eyes.

  “Maybe I’m not such a bad guy after all?”

  I snorted, my eyes closed. “Jury is still out, Mr. Huntington. But tonight was definitely a mark in your favor.”

  What Brice had given me tonight was priceless. He’d turned one of the worst nights of my life into one of the most interesting. He’d made me forget about Trevor and made me forget that I no longer had a place to live. Brice had given me laughter and vodka and a hell of a distraction.

  He wasn’t such a bad guy after all.

  But there was no way I was telling him that.

  I smiled when I felt a blanket settle around me.

  “Good night, Hollie baby.”

  Chapter Ten

  Brice

  I couldn’t sleep. I was lying in my bed, on top of the covers, and staring at the ceiling and watching the fan cut through the dim light coming in from the street. It was well past three in the morning, but I couldn’t seem to shut off my brain.

  I wasn’t used to having bad days. I knew that sounded stuck-up or whatever, but it was the truth. I excelled at most things I did, business and personal. So today had thrown me for a fucking loop. I had my ass handed to me by my boss, and then again by my parents.

  I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths and trying once again to clear my head and get the rest I knew I needed. I tried counting topless chicks, and when that didn’t do anything but make me hornier than I already was after dancing with Hollie all night, I threw my legs over the side of the bed and sat up.

  This was useless, and I wasn’t about to toss and turn for the next four hours, waiting for the sun to come up. I could work on a couple projects I had going. Maybe that would wear my brain out enough for sleep.

  Quietly, I padded down the hall and into the kitchen. I didn’t want to wake up Hollie. That poor petite brat had a worse day than I did. I was sure walking into your home to find your boyfriend cheating on you trumped boss pissed that you fucked too many hot women. I didn’t bother turning on the lights as I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. I’d hydrate, which would help with some of the hangover I’d no doubt have.

  Maybe a snack? I had no clue what my housekeeper kept in that pantry, but it’d be fun to find out. I shut the door and when I turned to where I was almost positive the food was kept, I jumped back in surprise, screaming like a chick in a horror movie and dropping my water bottle on the floor.

  “Holy shit, you scared me.” I bent down to get my drink and then crossed the room to where Hollie was sitting at the kitchen bar while trying to act like my heart was not trying to pound its way out of my chest. “I didn’t know you were up.”

  Her smile was sad. “Sorry, I… I couldn’t sleep I guess.”

  I leaned my forearms on the counter. “Yeah, me neither.”

  “I kept having dreams of me coming home to find Trevor and that girl.” She sighed. “Every time I closed my eyes… It wouldn’t go away.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think that’s anything you can ever un-see.” I took a swig off my water bottle and then offered it to her. I was surprised when she actually took it without making some remark about my germs. “I’m sorry.” I truly meant that too. I might not be looking for monogamy, but that didn’t mean I thought it was okay to cheat or spout out false promises.

  “Thank you.” She sat the water back on the table and then started to cry, big, fat, beautiful tears falling down her cheeks.

  Fuck.

  I didn’t like seeing her cry. It was worse than seeing Cassie cry, and it made me feel all weird inside. I needed to make it stop.

  “Hey.” I took her face in my hands, gently moving her face up so I could look into her blue eyes. “This guy, he isn’t worth your time, okay? He did you a favor today, he showed his true colors and you were able to get out before things went any further. Sure, you were living together, but at least you weren’t married with three kids due home from soccer practice at any minute, right?” She nodded and sniffled. “You are gorgeous and smart and stubborn as hell. You deserve someone great, not some starving artist who lies to you.”

  Hollie licked her lips, her eyes drifting down to my mouth. Holy shit. Was she going to kiss me? Did she want me to kiss her?

  She leaned forward and put her soft lips against mine.

  Fuck she felt good. This felt good. I wanted more, I wanted all of her. But I wasn’t that guy. I wasn’t about to take advantage of her heartbreak. She was feeling vulnerable and she’d had way too much to drink.

  “Stop overthinking it, Brice.”

  Was she reading my mind? And why the hell was I overthinking this? Why did I care about being the good guy? I’d wanted Hollie for years now, and she was knocking every fantasy I’d ever had about her right out
of the park.

  I let go, throwing myself into kissing her. I gave my tongue permission to invade her sweet mouth. I put my hands on her jaw, pulling her toward me. She climbed into my lap, straddling me as best she could in her sexy but extremely tight skirt. I found the zipper in the back, dragging it down and giving her more room to move on top of me.

  I wanted it off completely. I wanted to feel her against me. I wanted…Wait. I pulled back and she whimpered, her swollen lips forming a pout. “Are you still drunk?”

  “No?”

  “Are you sure? Because that sounded more like a question than a statement.” If Hollie wanted this, I wanted her to actually want it. I’d dreamed so many times about sinking inside her she’d become the featured player in my dirtiest dreams. She was sexy and unattainable.

  “I’m not drunk.” She put her hands behind her, taking the zipper the rest of the way down and stepping out of her skirt. She climbed back into my lap, her hot core against my hard dick. I clenched my jaw, trying like hell not to moan like a teenager watching real live porn. “My eight-month-long relationship just crashed and burned in a supremely epic way.”

  I pushed her hair out of her face when all I really wanted to do was put my hands on her ass. “So you’re using me, to forget.”

  “Do you care?”

  Did I? I should say yes. I should tell that if she still wanted me when the sun came up, I was all hers. But I didn’t.

  Instead I lied, not to her, but to myself. “No.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Brice

  I unbuttoned her shirt, revealing the white lace bra I knew would be underneath. I let my hands trail over her sides, cupping her breasts and kissing her collarbone. She tasted so fucking good and I wanted to be all over her at once. I doubted I’d ever get a chance like this again, and I wanted nothing more than to take full advantage.