Page 90 of Striking
Caitlin fills her glass and passes the pitcher to Lennon. “Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me you didn’t have sex with Maverick in that office a few years ago?”
“What?” Lennon squeals. “You did not. Oh my lord, that man is sex on a stick.”
“Eww,” Caitlin groans. “You’re married to my brother.”
“And I’m not blind. I can look, just not touch. And I don’t need to touch because I’m married to your brother, smart-ass. I can barely handle him. I don’t need anyone else,” she laughs.
Evie fans herself. “He is hot.”
“I mean, I wouldn’t blame you,” Grace adds.
“I never slept with Maverick. He pulled me into the office to tell me my date was a dick who’d been screwing one of the girls at the gym. He asked me if I wanted him to kick his ass.” Those days feel like a lifetime ago. My life in Kroydon Hills was everything I could have hoped it would be, but the best part of it is it led me to this. To Rhys.
“Rhys could have him beheaded,” Lennon giggles, and after a minute, we all laugh—hysterically. That’s probably enough margaritas for us, but we don’t stop.
Not our best move.
“Time to wake up, my love.” Rhys’s lips skim my shoulder as he pulls me back against his chest, but I refuse to open my eyes.
“Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick,” I groan, but I still don’t move.
I don’t think I can.
“My head hurts,” I whine.
Rhys kisses the top of my head, and even that tiny movement feels like someone just smashed a hammer over my head.
“We warned you guys that shots were probably a bad idea last night, but none of you wanted to hear it.”
“Oh no... shots? Why did you let me do shots?” I whimper and roll over, burying my face in his chest while I breathe through the nausea.
The dick laughs at me, and if I could function right now, I’d consider kicking him in the balls.
“Oh, little bee. I know we’ve only been married for a year and a half, but I promise I know you well enough to know not to tell you what to do.”
I nod and regret the movement immediately.
“Want me to get you anything?”
“Advil and water and a time machine so I can go back and make better choices,” I whisper, attempting to avoid adding to the pain.
“Pretty sure you ladies added this week into your calendars yearly for the rest of our lives, according to Everly last night. Her exact words wereBest week ever, bitches.”
“Oh God . . .”
“Gracie agreed and said next year she wants you to bring your crown.”
“Oh no . . .”
He kisses my head again. “Oh yes, love. So either you’d better learn to handle your liquor better or maybe leave the tequila in Mornea.”
I crack open my eyes and glare as much as possible. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Oh, very much,” he laughs.
I roll over and the blanket slips down. “Why am I naked?”
“I guess you don’t remember demanding I fuck you either, love?”
