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“I know I messed up.” She pushed a finger against her temple. No doubt her head pounded. “But how is sleeping here going to fix that?”
I pulled her into my chest. “Because you’ll be with me.”
“Mm,” she nodded and chewed her cheek as she looked at me, “and the last few times we were together, I believe I was the one who got pushed away and lashed out at when I was only trying to help.” She clamped down hard on my hand that had moved to her bottom. “I’m not taking your shit anymore, Grim.”
She stepped back with a sexy smile, and I scowled. “If you really want me to stay with you at night, make an effort.” She reached up and cupped my cheek. “And then, and only then, I might consider it.”
“The fuck you say?” She moved around me, and I turned on my heel to see her reach down and pat the boys as she opened the door.
“Thanks for the shirt,sweetheart.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm then she disappeared.
What the hell just happened?Frustration flashed through my chest as Leal looked over his shoulder at me.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I growled. “You two are just as bad as she is.”
“Am I interrupting?” Jesse stepped into the room. The shit-eating grin he wore told me he’d caught wind of things.
“No.”
“Good,” his tone deepened, and I knew something was up, “because you need to see this.”
Kenna
The hangover drink Dale made for me shook like Jell-O as it sat in the cupholder of the golfcart. He claimed the drink worked miracles, but now I wondered if I’d been the butt of a nasty joke. It looked like green cement and snail sludge blended to taste like what I assumed a cat’s asshole would be like. Every sip was a constant battle with my stomach to keep the shit down. Thankfully, Salazar suffered just as badly as I did, and a few times he looked like he might be sick as well.
“Where were you two?” his friend asked as we rolled up late, and Salazar slowly shook his head as he didn’t want to answer. “You think you can do the next one?” The guy chuckled and swung like a pro.
We rode in silence to the next hole. To say we were both hungover was an understatement, but at least we were in this hell together.
Salazar pulled a big plastic cup from between the seats and gagged as he took a sip.
“He got you too?” I held up mine and showed him the name the shit had written on the side of it.Hate me now, thank me later.
“Did you see what he put in this thing?” He dropped the cup back in the holder and took the iron the caddy held out. “Green tea, coconut milk, and tomato juice. The man should be punished. What a combination.” He made a face.
“I’m willing to conspire on something violent if you’re up for it.” I pulled my ball hat down, hoping to block more of the sun, but it didn’t work.
“This is why we’re friends, Kenna.” He chuckled lightly.
“I’ve yet to see you swing.” His buddy came up. “And you’re trying to sell me.” Salazar shot him a look, and he shut up but winked at me. Clearly, they had a good relationship. “Have you seen him play before?”
“I have.” I felt my phone vibrate, but the idea of even moving to answer made my head swim.
“He any good?”
Salazar got out and walked to the tee then immediately took a swing and launched the ball straight toward the flag on the next green. My eyes hurt as I watched, but I saw it had landed only about a foot away from the cup.
“Damn,” his buddy muttered, “here I was thinking I had a leg up because I got him so drunk last night.”
I grinned, knowing Salazar’s play. “Did he tell you he was a righty too?”
His face fell. “He did.”
“Yeah,” I chuckled as Salazar returned and handed his club to the caddy, “he’s ambidextrous.”
“Shit!” He rubbed his mouth and I realized he must have bet a lot on each hole. “Since you look like shit, my friend, maybe we should do this another day?”
“No.” Salazar climbed back onto his seat in the cart, and we tore off toward the next green. When we were far enough away, he turned to look at me. “The next hole, he bet his beach house in Bali for a month.”
