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Cold air entered the vehicle, and it felt like it literally battered my body as Remi opened the door. He took my hand, pulling me up from the seat and out of the limo, which kept its engine running, for some odd reason. He guided me across a broken road to the warehouse.
I took no more than three steps when I fell to my knees and heaved. My stomach tightened, and a small sleuth of dissected bears ejected from my mouth, landing in a brown drizzle.
Remi dropped to his haunches, and one hand rubbed my back. His other hand pulled the hair from my face as another rush of vomit splattered the ground.
“I told you that bear smelled funny.” I swallowed the taste of rising bile and lifted my head, and it felt like my brain was shaking inside my skull.
“Some of them are a little strong-tasting.”
“Strong isn’t the word I’d use.” Vile. Vile was the word I’d use.
I couldn’t see the bus, even as my pounding head moved slowly from side to side, searching for it.
“I don’t see the bus. Will Rhylie be here?”
Remi straightened; his hand stretched out to pull me from the ground. He wasted no time and started walking. He didn’t stop when I struggled to keep up with his fast feet, swallowing the distance between us and the building.
“They might have parked around the back,” he finally answered.
The sound of our feet against the concrete hurt my ears, but I was surprised to hear nothing else.
No music played.
I’d expected to hear Remi’s singing voice, the band, and screaming fans...but there was nothing.
Remi’s hand yanked down the door handle, and we stepped inside. His voice—coming from a room way above—greeted us in a low hum as we moved through the darkness. Relief washed through me, taking out the fear that had me thinking we’d been given the wrong address and would end up murdered and tossed into the sea as fish food.
Shadows lingered at the wall, avoiding us as we drifted by. Remi’s palm flattened to a door, opening it to reveal stairs. I felt too groggy to climb. Good thing for the dirty handrail.
Struggling with the last three of what felt like a million steps, I felt uncomfortable. My panties were sticking to me with old arousal. My head was swirling from the strength of the champagne and whatever the other drinks were. My stomach was still rolling because more vomit was eager to get out. And the stray arm of a little bear was still stuck in my teeth, annoying me because my tongue had no luck flicking it out. Remi pulled me up the last steps, with his hand still in mine and the recorded song that called to me.
His knuckles rapped on the door. The heavy metal didn’t budge. Footsteps interrupted the music, overpowering it, as big feet moved to the door, stopping there, but the lock didn’t release until Remi spoke.
“Decoy.” A single word.
“I like that song,” I mumbled, grogginess still present.
The door opened. The footsteps sounded again, fading into the music as they moved in the opposite direction.
Remi’s sharp jaw ticked, and his swallow looked heavy from our height difference.
Golden eyes looked me over. I smiled up at him, but it wasn’t a flattering kind of smile, as it was the exact moment I freed the bear’s mangled paw from my molar.
“Are we going in?” I took the first step, not understanding why he was lingering in the doorway or why he looked dejected to be here.
He sighed, closing in on me and backing me into a corner. His face moved close, his breath touching me before his fingers followed, angling my face to his.
“Part of me doesn’t want to. Part of me just feels like blowing this off and keeping you for myself.”
His words made little sense to me, but they tickled my lips. I forced my lips together, fighting the urge to kiss him. It wouldn’t be fair to do so with my vomit breath.
Remi didn’t seem to care, pressing his soft lips to mine for a chaste kiss. And then, with great effort, he pushed off the wall and away from me.
He didn’t say another word, so I focused on the song playing.
“My favorite song is starting.” I started humming along to it, trying to be sexy as I danced a little. I stumbled, even in my sneakers, and fell into him. I didn’t let it bother me.
“I think you’re a little drunk.”
