She’d text Colm in the morning and tell him she had shanghaied his bed. He wouldn’t care.
She stealthily made her way up to Colm’s room. It was still dark, so she had to feel her way around. Her phone was in her purse, which she’d tucked away in a closet downstairs. She considered going back down for it, then thought screw it. She was too close to a bed and too damn tired.
She unzipped her dress, sucking in a deep, relieved breath. The corset part was snug, and as the night wore on, it had gotten more and more uncomfortable. It had a built-in bra, so as she pushed the gown over her hips, Kelli realized she was basically naked, only her panties remaining.
She didn’t care.
She tossed the dress into the corner where she thought there might be a chair, then gingerly made her way to the bed. Sinking onto the soft mattress, she crawled under the covers and sighed blissfully.
Colm had a very soft bed.
Kelli closed her eyes, listening to the rush of white noise pulsing through her ears that told her she was going to have one heck of a headache tomorrow.
“Too much wine,” she whispered to the empty room.
When her announcement was met with silence, another thought came to her, one that hurt as she spoke it aloud.
“Alone again.”
Chapter Four
Colm went back up to the Collins Dorm with Brooke and without the vodka they’d gone down to the pub for. She’d been drinking screwdrivers all night, and she’d run out of liquor. Colm had figured that was probably a good thing since they’d both over-imbibed, but Brooke had found Padraig and asked if they could “borrow” some from the pub.
His brother had said yes and offered to go get it, but Colm didn’t want his drunk twin staggering behind the counter, surrounded by all that glass.
He’d offered to go, and Brooke had followed, as he led the way using the flashlight on his almost-dead cell phone. Once they were alone in the pub, Brooke had taken advantage of the ability to finally talk, giving him a rapid play-by-play of the game from her perspective. He hadn’t bothered to mention he’d pretty much been there for the whole thing—and it had suddenly occurred to him, he’d really enjoyed the last couple of hours because it had been peaceful.
Brooke could talk.
A lot.
A fucking lot.
Once he’d had the bottle in hand, he’d rounded the counter, where Brooke waited for him. She’d stopped him with a hand on his chest, lifting her face to his. He’d placed the vodka and his phone on the bar and tugged her closer, attempting a kiss, but his beard was in the way. Brooke didn’t appear to care about that when her hands drifted from his chest to his hips, pulling him closer and letting him know she was ready to move this party to the next level.
“Let’s go upstairs,” he’d murmured, ready to shed his damn costume.
“Okay,” she’d whispered back.
Colm had picked up his phone and left the vodka on the bar.
Once they’d returned to the living room, he’d started to direct her to the second set of stairs that would lead to his bedroom.
They’d originally planned to go back to her place after the party, but both of them had consumed way too much, and with the blackout, Colm wasn’t sure he wanted to attempt to grab an Uber and make his way across the too-dark city to her apartment. His room would be just fine.
They were at the foot of the steps when Sunnie stopped him.
“Tap on the keg is jacked up. Can you fix it?” she whispered. “I’d ask Paddy, but…”
She didn’t bother to finish that sentence.
Colm nodded, then looked at Brooke. “I’ll meet you in my room.” He added, “Second door on the left,” at the same time Emmy stepped out of the shadows and did her hilarious monster growl.
Shit. Busted. Again.
He took the tequila shot as Brooke made her way upstairs.
Colm followed Sunnie to the kitchen to fix the tap. Two twists and the thing shot beer straight into his face like a geyser.