Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
She groaned.
“I think I slapped Tristan.” She threw her arm over her face, wanting to shrivel up and turn to dust. “I have no idea why, either. Was it a joke? Was he pissed, and I reacted?”
But if it was a joke, slapping someone was certainly going too far. If he hadn’t been mad before, he surely must’ve been mad after. She would’ve been. Anyone would’ve.
Maybe he had been pissed. She’d been a mess when she was supposed to be acting like the mate of the most dashing gargoyle in the city, the beta to the queen of the gargoyles, the man every woman wanted. She should’ve been the model of decorum and grace, of beauty and elegance, to fit on his arm.
Instead, she’d thrown around obscenities like some sort of deranged sailor, cackled like a Halloween rendition of a witch, and kissed everyone in sight. With tongue!
Wait, did she kiss everyone?
She palmed her head as she willed her brain to dredge out the fuzzy memories. Jasper? Ulric? Aurora? She’d hugged them, hung on Jasper before they both went tumbling into John’s lap, but she couldn’t remember kissing them. John? No, not him. She hadn’t even hugged him.
“Oh, god,” she groaned. “I think I kissed Tristan, too.”
“Well, that’s only fair. He kissed you the other day. In the kitchen in Drex’s territory, remember?”
“Yeah but…that—“
Was sexy, she finished silently. Last night would’ve been…
She didn’t even want to think about it. She’d probably tasted like stale whiskey. Cheap stale whiskey, at that. Not to mention she’d probably slobbered all over him. Hell, she might’ve licked his face for all she remembered. He’d been sober, too. She remembered that, because it had made her feel drunker.
She had to have made him angry, even though he’d never gotten mad at her before.
She thought back to sober times, wondering if that were true. But no, regardless of all the stupid things she’d done and said, he’d never raised his voice at her. He’d never called her a nasty name or threatened her in a way that didn’t tighten her core and make her think of begging him to take it further. He’d teased, he’d sauntered around full of infuriating but sexy arrogance, but he’d never turned anything she did against her.
And she’d slapped him.
More memories, distorted, of something painful. Something sweet. Something sad. She couldn’t remember any details, just that…
“I think I cried at one point.”
“Everyone needs a good cry,” he said noncommittally.
“Sure. And I have good cries—alone, in my bedroom with the door locked. Not in a bar.”
“I heard everyone in your crew was blind drunk. Jasper couldn’t stand straight, and Ulric upended a table and got you all cut off. They think it’s funny.”
“They didn’t slap Tristan, then stick their tongue down his throat, then cry all over him.”
“They probably would’ve if you’d dared them.”
He wasn’t helping. “I threatened a half a dozen people with stolen weapons.” She flopped her arm back onto the bed. “What was I thinking?”
Someone knocked at the door. Sebastian swiped out of the game he’d been playing and tossed his phone onto the bed.
“You were letting your hair down, Nessa, that’s all. Niamh and Phil were there. They would’ve stopped you if things went too far.”
She looked at the ceiling incredulously. “Niamh once wrestled Phil through a fire. She’s not the person who is going to tell anyone to stop.”
Sebastian opened the door before turning for his suitcase. “Which means she is not the person who will judge. It’s fine.”
“Hey.” Jasper came in with a jovial grin. He sat on the edge of Nessa’s bed and looked down at her. “You look like I felt this morning. You gotta get healed, babydoll.”
“I gotta get some brakes,” she grumbled.
“Nessa is worried she made an ass of herself last night, especially with Tristan,” Sebastian said, pulling out a black button-up shirt.
Jasper laughed. “Lady, we all made asses of ourselves last night. Aurora passed out on the table. John had to carry her home. And we’re going to do it again tonight because Gerard is ready to tie one on. Remember at Kingsley’s when he got so drunk he flew into a building?” He nodded with a grin. “Yeah. He’s reserved a VIP section for us. Not for his people—us! He’s pissed he missed us having a blast last night. He’ll make up for it tonight, I bet.”
“No,” she moaned. “I am not doing that again tonight. I’ve embarrassed myself enough for a lifetime.”
“Nah. Come on.” Jasper grabbed her hands and hauled her to sitting. “You didn’t do anything crazy. You’re fine. You’ll feel better once you have Indigo lay the healing mitts on you. Or you get a Bloody Mary, whichever comes first.”
“No,” she said again, faux crying as he pulled her to standing.
“If Aurora can face everyone, being as buttoned up as she was trained to be, you certainly can. You didn’t even fall down! I don’t think. There are some very blurry sections in my memory.”