Sighing I step around him and look for any flash of red. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the flash of her red hair that I’ve been searching for and turn towards the bar. My mouth drops open.

“Holy shit!” I say again.

Harper beckons me with her finger. A man helps me onto the bar. I shake my head at her, but I open my mouth as she tilts the bottle to my lips. As the alcohol burns all the way down my throat, I have only one thought. Tinkerbell is the best kind of trouble.

Someone inserts a key in the elevator and says, “He’s expecting you, so stay here and he’ll come get you.”

I press my hands to my face and try to gather enough strength to figure out what’s going on. I think I focus enough to see a black dancing arm. Wait, that doesn’t make sense. A dancing arm, what is that? I need to focus. Where am I? More importantly, where am I going? I’m in a elevator so I must be going home.

Bed.

That sounds amazing. Wait, Tinkerbell! I laugh when I hear myself shout her name out loud instead of saying it in my head. Vaguely, I remember her saying something along the lines of not using her nickname at work, while she was helping me into the lobby. Oh man, did I call her Tinkerbell? A lot? Whatever, she must not have hated it too much if she helped me inside the lobby.

“FUUCCCKK!” I shout when I realize where she left me.

I start pressing the down button, but the stupid elevator keeps going up.

“No! This cannot be happening!” I say a lot louder than I intend just as the elevator doors chime open and a devastatingly handsome god smirks at me.

“Nice to see you to, Ads,” The God says.

I throw up on him.

OH . . . MY . . . GOD . . . please let this be the worse nightmare in the world. From the sour taste in my mouth, I know it’s not. I refuse to open my eyes. If I don’t see it, this didn’t happen. His fingers wrap around my forearms and he steers my drunken self out of the elevator. Hopefully he’s nice enough to avoid the vomit. I really wouldn’t blame him if he made sure I stepped in it.

I force air into my lungs and slowly exhale, trying not to throw up again. So not what I need right now. We stop walking, I hear Jax moving about, but I refuse to open my eyes. This is just a horrible nightmare. This isn’t real. There’s no way I’m unlucky enough to end up at his place when I’m this drunk. The world isn’t that cruel, is it? Yes, yes it is.

“Are you going to throw up again because I would prefer if you did it in my toilet instead of on me next time,” Jax says from behind me.

Refusing to acknowledge his close proximity, I swallow a mouthful of air that’s dripping in his scent. I’m relieved that I’m just dizzy, no longer nauseous.

“Maybe I’m not that drunk, maybe it’s just you that makes me sick,” I say in a teasing voice I don’t think I pull off so well. For the life of me, I can’t seem to care.

Jax leads me to his couch and orders me to sit. Leaning back, I try to focus on exactly how I ended up here. Rubbing my palms over my eyes, I concentrate as hard as I can but I can only pull up a slight memory of Harper asking if I wanted to see the boyfriend or lover.

God, I don’t think I’ve ever been this drunk in my entire life. She should come with a warning label. I have to ask her for the details. My phone. I can ask her now. I open my eyes and I’m happy to see my purse attached to my shoulder. Thank goodness! Somehow my purse jumps from my shoulder to the floor. Hmmm. When did my purse start moving on its own? I reach for it, but gravity is a bitch. I fall flat on my face, nearly hitting my head on the coffee table. This is going to hurt tomorrow. I struggle to sit up, but my body isn’t cooperating. I attempt three more times before giving up. Laying on the floor seems like the better option anyway. This isn’t so bad, I think I’ll sleep here.

I dream of flying through the woods. It’s so vivid that I can smell it. I inhale the smell of fresh air, oak trees, and home.

“If I smell bad I blame your little gift,” someone chuckles into my ear.

My eyes snap open. “So that wasn’t a nightmare then?”

Jax brushes my bangs out of my face. “More my nightmare than yours. I’ve never been thrown up on, and as much as I love everything you do, I’d really rather you not do that again.”

I hate that I know we’re in Jax’s bed. Ugh! The man lives in a huge, over-the-top penthouse, he couldn’t have stuck me in one of the many spare bedrooms? He reads my mind or maybe I spoke out loud? It’s hard to tell at this point.

“Didn’t want you to throw up in your sleep and drown in your own vomit.”

I roll my eyes, but on the inside I’m smiling. I wish I wasn’t this drunk, though. Okay, so maybe I’m not drunk anymore, but my head is fuzzy. Jax reaches behind him and offers the most beautiful thing I’ve seen besides him this morning. A glass of water. I smile appreciatively at him before I chug the entire glass. Yup, classy should be my middle name. I gaze out his panoramic window, and to my surprise, it’s dark. I turn back to Jax, startled.

“Please tell me I didn’t sleep the entire day away.”

He gives me the don’t-be-stupid look. “No, you’ve only been out for a little over an hour.”

I slap my hand over my face and mutter, “Oh.”

He gently lifts my hand off my face, leans close enough to where our noses almost touch. I hold my breath, remembering I threw up, and watch his mouth as he says, “It’s not like we haven’t slept together before, Ads. It’s not that big of a deal.”

I push him off me and brush off his nearness with a laugh. Trying to play off that my heart didn’t just stop.

“So how drunk are you still?”

I do a quick measure of everything. “Just a little buzz going on.”

I stare at my hands, not knowing if I should get out of his more-than-welcoming bed and go home.

Jax laughs. “Yeah, I think you threw up everything on me and sobered up after that. It’s pretty impressive how much you were able to get on me with one shot.”

I growl at him from under my breath and say in a not-so-nice tone, “Oh shut up, you act like you’ve never thrown up from drinking before.”

Jax, of course, won’t let me live this down. That would be too nice of him.

“Of course I have. I’ve never had the pleasure of throwing up on someone, though. That, my dear, goes all to you.”

I stick out my tongue at him.

“How’s the doctor?” he asks with disdain.

I shake my head. “You really want to talk about Kohen?”

He opens his mouth, a witty comeback on the tip of his tongue I’m sure, but stops when I challenge him with a raise of my eyebrow. His finger traces over my frown lines, and then he shakes his head, as if to get rid of an unpleasant memory.

“How was your first week?” he asks to change the topic.

I give him a tight smile and tell him everything. He seems mesmerized as I talk. I tell him how the flowers are on my nightstand so they’re the first thing I see in the morning. He tells me about a few business deals he’s pursuing. It astounds me how intelligent Jax is. He should be, though, he’s the only person I have ever met who has skipped a grade in elementary school. I listen, just as mesmerized.

“I don’t know exactly what to say other than I’m an ass. I know I don’t deserve it after everything, but I want things to get back to normal between us.”

I give him my first real smile since I oh-so-kindly threw up on him. “I would love that!”

I know he probably means normal as in friends, but I secretly hope he means something more. As soon as that thought flies through my head, I get pissed off at myself. I need to let this stupid infatuation with him go. It was a fling, nothing more. After chastising myself for a bit longer, I relax against him again and enjoy our usual banter. I even open up about therapy. He’s always been a great outlet to confide my sessions with Liv.