Page 4 of Cognac Secrets
That would explain the pounding in my head… but still, where were the guys? What the fuck?
“How did we get back here?” I asked.
“Yeah, about that. I kind of unlocked your phone with your fingerprint and you had this place listed as ‘home’ in your rideshare accounts. I booked you a ride – your buddies weren’t thrilled, but they said they had your bike handled. I’m not a psycho, I promise. You just wouldn’t let me go and kept calling me Mia. No one could figure out what was going on. Your buddy, uh, Saint, nice but scary guy – he followed us here and helped me get you inside.”
“Yeah, but why are youstillhere?” I asked, perplexed, as I moved aside so the bathroom light would hit her.
The long dark hair and the lightly suntanned skin was honestly where the similarities between this woman and Mia ended, but that didn’t mean anything. I mean, she was a knockout by her own right.
Her hair waved out around her narrow face with its high cheekbones, and narrow chin, her eyebrows winging perfectly over a set of wide and glittering emerald eyes. She was stunning, but she wasn’tMia, so just how fucking hard had I tied one on last night?
“What day is it?” I asked, squinting.
“Sunday,” she said, and she sat perfectly still.
Fuck, I didn’t have to be at work at all… not until tomorrow! What the hell?
“You okay, Bennie?” she asked softly and I scowled at her, but then I tried to knock it off. I mean, shit, I was a stranger and she’d seen me home and stayed with me. I must have been in rough shape, judging by the compassion on her face.
“No,” I grumbled, and it came out a little more fiercely than I intended, but she didn’t flinch. I liked that.
“Sorry.” I went back over and dropped heavily onto the edge of the bed in just my boxer briefs and asked, “How did I get undressed?”
“That would be me and Saint,” she said and had the grace to look a little flustered.
“Why are you still here?” I asked again.
“Um… well…” she gave a nervous laugh. “Listen, you were really drunk, and obviously this Mia person meant a lot to you…”
“Oh, God.” I swiped a hand over my face. “What did I do?”
“Cried,” she said meekly. “Like wouldn’t let me go and cried on me.”
“Shit,” I muttered. “I’m sorry.”
“No!” she cried. “No, don’t be. I mean, how nice for her,” she said. “To be loved like that.”
I shook my head.
“She’s dead because of it,” I said, and her face fell. Another thing I liked about her – you could read her like a book. I could see why the boys felt okay leaving me in her care. Hell, they probably thought they were helping me get laid, but judging by her fully clothed state, things hadn’t gone that way… unless she’d gotten dressed.
“We, uh, didn’t…”
“No!” she quickly assured me. “No, I laid down with you and you cried and eventually passed out. I didn’t want to just leave you like that, so I got up and slept here so I could make sure you didn’t, you know, throw up or anything and like die choking on your own puke. I kind of thought your friends would be mad at me if I let you die and, honestly, I would be mad at myself. I know all about you, by the way – I mean, notyou, you… but your club. You have quite the reputation and one I wouldn’t want to be on the bad side of so… um… here I am.”
“Shit,” I muttered.
“Oh, hey, don’t be mad at yourself.” She stood up and I looked up sharply and she froze, putting her hands out like I was some wild animal she was trying to calm. I couldn’t say she was precisely,wrong…but it made me feel like an even bigger asshole than I already did.
“It’s okay,” she said soothingly as she came over slowly, almost painfully slowly, and lowered her shapely ass to the rumpled covers of the bed beside me.
“Here, how about this?” she proposed. “Let’s start again. Hi, I’m Sandrine. My friends call me Sandy.” She held out her hand to me and I took it. It was chilled but soft in mine and I put my other hand to the back of it, sandwiching it between my paws to warm it.
“Hey, Sandy, my friends call me Bennie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Bennie. I know you don’t really remember a whole lot about last night, but you’re a really good dancer,” she said andthatpart came flooding back.
“Only when I’m drunk,” I admitted, and she laughed.
