The Girl Next Door
The Boy Next Door Chapter 25

A groan escapes as I roll onto my side. The motion has my head throbbing to life behind my eyelids.

Correction-my entire body throbs to life.

What the hell went down last night?

It takes a moment to jumpstart my brain.

Ah, that's right...welcome home party at Bang Bang. That much, I remember. And shots. My God, the shots. What the hell had I been thinking?

Apparently, I hadn't been.

I crack open an eye and glance around.

Thankfully, I'm in my own bedroom. That's a relief. I remember getting flirty with one of the bartenders. And dancing. The music had been on point. One amazing song after another. And wait a minute... My brow furrows.

Colton. The party crasher. He'd put the kibosh on any possible fun with the hunky bartender, which had been annoying. If only I could have ignored his presence, but that's never been an option. Even though I'd spent the night dancing, I had been acutely aware of his brooding presence at the bar. From the corner of my eye, I watched him stare at me with a single mindedness that had shivers careening down my spine.

Does that mean I made sure to put on a show so that he could see exactly what he was missing?

Damn right I did.

Guess I pushed it too far because I remember him hoisting me over his shoulder and carrying me out of the club caveman-style.

If only I hadn't put up a fight. Maybe then, everything smoldering in the air between us wouldn't have detonated the way it did.

A groan of embarrassment slips free.

Oh my God! Did I really let him go down on me in the parking lot?

Yeah. Yeah, I did.

I search the murky depths of my brain. I don't remember anyone stumbling across us but let's face it, I was out of my mind. There could have been a full-on crowd cheering us on and I wouldn't have been cognizant of it. Even thinking about the o****m that had streaked through me is enough to make me throb to life with painful awareness.

Oh, the horror of it all.

I grab my pillow and drag it over my head before letting loose a scream. I've done exactly what I said that I wouldn't. I allowed Colton Montgomery to lay his hands on me.

Needing to escape from the onslaught of memories that continue to flood into my brain, I throw off the covers and ease my way from the bed before staggering out of my room. I make it a few steps into the short hallway before spotting Mia as she shovels a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. She looks none to worse for the wear which is the opposite of me. I feel like a steaming bag of dog s**t some derelict teenager lit on fire.

b***h.

I lift my hand to my hair and realize that it's sticking up from every conceivable angle. And I didn't bother washing off my makeup last night. I probably bear a striking resemblance to a rabid raccoon.

"Hey," she chirps, spoon paused midway in the air, "how are you feeling?"

"Stop shouting," I wince before grabbing my head so that it doesn't roll off my shoulders. "Please, I beg of you."

"That good, hmm?" A smile simmers across her lips as a teasing light enters her eyes. "Let me guess, you're looking for a little hair of the dog that bit you?" There's a pause. "I'm sure we have a bottle of tequila around here somewhere. Want me to get it?" "God, no." Even the thought is enough to make my stomach heave. "I'm never drinking again."

Mia snickers as if she doesn't believe me. Hell, I'm not even sure I believe me but with the way I'm currently feeling, it seems like an excellent idea moving forward.

Once my belly stops spasming, I point to the kitchen. "I need massive amounts of Tylenol and Gatorade.

I stagger into the other room before returning with a humongous bottle of the orange sports drink. My fingers tremble as I fumble with the cap.

"Why did you let me drink so much," I accuse, successfully prying off the top and chugging a quarter of it.

Oh God.

Instead of settling my gut, it only makes it churn even more. I press my fingers against my mouth before releasing a loud belch.

"If memory serves, I told you several times to slow down, but you weren't in the mood to listen. At one point, you called me a buzzkill." Leave it to Mia to throw that in my face. When I fail to respond, she asks, "Exactly how many shots did you have?" "I lost count after eight." That thought is enough to make me sick. I shake my head to clear it before frantically waving a hand. "Please, I can't even think about that. It'll make me sick. Never mind, I'm already sick." Getting up was a mistake. I point to my room. "I'm going back to bed. Wake me up tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that. Hopefully, I'll have bounced back by then."

I stagger a few steps when an image materializes in my mind and I swing around to face Mia. As I do, my head spins. Damn, but this is seriously miserable. With my free hand, I grab my head. "Wait a minute. Were you busting a move on the dance floor with Beck or was that a tequila-induced dream?"

Because at this point, anything is possible.

With a wince, she quickly averts her eyes. But not before I catch the guilt that flickers in their dark depths. Instead of answering, she busies herself by shoving another spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

Huh. Well, isn't this a rather interesting turn of events.

Seconds tick by without a response. My hangover dissipates just a bit as I take another step and jab a finger in her direction. I wrack my brain for anything more. The images are fleeting and blurred at the edges, but there's no way they're a figment of my drunken imagination. "Yeah," I pipe up, instantly warming to the subject, "you two were definitely dancing. His hands were all over you. And you, ya little hussy, were totally enjoying it."

Her face goes up in flames as she squirms on the couch. Her eyes turn a little hazy and I'd give almost anything to know what's running through her brain.

I wave a hand in front of my bestie's face. "Hello? Earth to Mia. Come in, Mia."

She blinks, snapping back to attention and our conversation. "Sorry."

"Please tell me I wasn't hallucinating. Because if that's the case, I really am going to lay off the booze."

She's silent for a long moment before begrudgingly admitting, "No, we danced together." Emotion flickers across her face but she remains silent. As tempting as it is to give her the third degree, I'm in no frame of mind to do it. I'll just tuck away this bit of information for safekeeping.

Instead of answering the question, she raises a brow and attempts to turn the tables on me. "Is there anything you would like to tell me about?" "Huh?"

Her gaze turns knowing. "I saw you at the bar with Colton."

Instead of admitting the truth, I grumble, "Can you believe that guy had the audacity to show his face after I purposefully went out of my way not to invite him?"

"Umm, maybe?" She pauses. "Any interesting conversations?"

Colton is the last person I want to discuss. Even with Mia. I want to forget about what happened last night. Nothing good will come of it. No one has ever hurt me the way he did. And I'll be damned if I give him a chance to do it again. I force my feet into movement before dropping down onto the armchair and squeezing my eyes shut. "He wants to be friends," I mutter. "Don't worry, I was extremely clear about where he can shove his friendship."

All right...perhaps I could have been clearer in my stance.

Mia's lips bow into a smile. "Maybe that was the closure you needed to move on. Feel any better about getting it out of your system?"

Nope. Not one bit. Because at the end of the day, all I did was open up a can of worms.

"Surprisingly, no."

"I'm proud of you for giving him a piece of your mind. That took balls," she tells me. I'm sure Mia assumes that I gave him a repeat performance of my psycho tirade from in front of the building. Unfortunately, nothing could be further from the truth.

I snort, wishing that's what had happened. "As far as I'm concerned, he can shove those up his a*s as well."

"Sounds like his a*s is a crowded place," she says with a chuckle.

Unable to help myself, I crack open an eyelid. My shoulders shake before we both burst into laughter. "Yeah, it does."