Say Something: Second Chances, Book 6 Page 2

  “You wanna dance?” Frank asked.

  Georgie nodded, then grinned when all three guys at their table, plus Kevin, followed her to the floor. She was the cream filling in a frat-boy cookie and it was fun. Between the flashing lights, the sweet beat and the heat of the vodka, Georgie felt weightless, like a feather floating along the current of a gentle river.

  Nothing could ruin this buzz.

  Or so she thought.

  She glanced over at the table to check on Kristen and Laura and spied Jason standing there with Nick. Her heart skipped a beat and she sucked in a deep breath to steady herself. He was staring directly at her and he looked totally pissed. Of course, that was his standard expression whenever she ran into him these days.

  She considered her resolution. Though she’d originally planned to knock fiancés number one and two off her list before approaching Nick, she didn’t think she should look this gift horse in the mouth. Tonight was as good as any to start phase one of the second-chances goal in regards to Nick. After all, she was riding pretty high on vodka courage.

  She excused herself from the group of guys surrounding her, ignoring their disappointed looks—as if she’d seriously hook up with boys who probably used fake IDs to get into the bar—and made a beeline for the table.

  Georgie feigned annoyance. “What the hell? What are you two doing here? It’s GNO.”

  Jason frowned. “GNO?”

  Kristen and Nick responded in unison. “Girls’ Night Out.”

  Georgie tried not to grin at Nick’s quick response explaining her acronym. Her abbreviations used to drive him nuts. He’d always look at her and say, “Why can’t you just say the damn words?” Which, of course, encouraged her to use even more text speak.

  When Nick stepped closer, Georgie fought to calm her nerves. She’d only seen him a handful of times since she’d left him in the church and he’d been chilly at best.

  “Looks more like the Babysitter Club out there,” he said with a slight jeer. She tried to read his tone. Was he putting her down—still angry—or was he jealous?

  Georgie forced a laugh and tried to play it cool. “I was just warming them up for Kristen, seeing if any of them had future husband written on them. By the way,” Georgie said, looking at Kristen, “they all want kids. Sorry.”

  Kristen had come here tonight in hopes of finding some potential husband candidates and Georgie had promised to help. Since she sure as hell wasn’t interested in finding a guy for herself, she’d spent her evening interviewing possible hook-ups for Kristen and Laura.

  Mercifully, the waitress returned with another round of shots. While Georgie had consumed more than her fair share of vodka, it wasn’t nearly enough to still the butterflies in her stomach now that Nick was here. They’d been standing next to each other for all of five minutes, which was the current record in their new status of “broken engagement couple”.

  Nick placed his hand over Georgie’s as she started to lift the glass. His hand was huge and covered hers completely. She prayed he couldn’t feel it shaking.

  “Um, George,” Nick started, using his nickname for her. She melted a bit. She’d always pretended to hate it when he called her George, but in truth, she got wet every time he said it. Tonight was no exception. Dammit.

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

  Georgie glared at him. No small task considering how far she had to look up. She’d always thought they must have looked like an odd couple, Nick’s burly, six-three mountain casting a huge shadow over her five-two petite frame. Tonight wasn’t as awkward though. She’d bought herself a few inches with her kick-ass heels. Not that it made her feel any bigger next to Nick.

  “Nope. Not yet.” Georgie shook off his hold. “Here’s to second chances and sexy college guys,” she said, hoping to gather more evidence that he might be more jealous than pissed off. Nick rewarded her sauciness with a growl.

  Then he lifted his own shot glass and drank as well.

  Georgie wasn’t sure why he was sticking around. She was used to him avoiding her like the plague. They’d had four run-ins since the wedding day. Once in the grocery store, once on the street outside Kristen’s townhouse, and twice in local bars. Each time, he said a very gruff hello, then turned and walked away before she could respond.

  They’d never talked about her desertion at the wedding. Not once. She’d lost her mind, run away, and that was it. She had considered calling him at least a thousand times in the week immediately following, but she’d never found the courage to dial the number. Then, as more time passed, she realized he hadn’t called her either.

  She reached across Nick to grab a pretzel from the bowl in the middle of the table, using the motion to lean closer. She took a quick sniff, her body reacting to the familiar smell of him—the masculine cologne she’d bought him for Christmas two years earlier bringing back a flood of good memories.

  Of Nick standing in front of the mirror in the morning, slapping the scent on after a shave. Or the way he’d reach for her before leaving for work, picking her up in a giant bear hug. Or the night he’d come home after a few days out of town. She’d met him at the door where he’d scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder like a sexy firefighter, carrying her to the bedroom where he’d done unspeakable, delicious things to her body.

  A wave of heat suffused her, making her flush. And sway.

  Damn. She really shouldn’t have had that last shot. Tipsy was giving way to drunk. Not a smart move given her plan.

  Nick’s deep voice caught her attention. “Um, Jason.”

  She looked up in time to see Nick gesturing to her. Great.

  The first time she managed to score a little bit of time with Nick without him storming off in a huff and she’d ruined it by overindulging in vodka.

  “GNO appears to be over,” Jason said.

  Georgie wondered if it was physically possible to kick her own ass. That desire quickly passed when she realized the guys intended to drive them home. Wow. What the hell was going on? Of all her former fiancés, she’d anticipated Nick’s anger would be the hardest to break through. That he’d be the most resistant to her attempts to apologize and make amends.

  “Come on, George,” he murmured.

  She fought to restrain her grin when Nick wrapped his arm around her waist, intent of helping her to the car. She wasn’t that damn drunk, but she also wasn’t stupid enough to admit it either.

  She looked up at him, her brows furrowed. “You’re being nice to me.”

  He shrugged, though his scowl didn’t soften. “You caught me on a good night.”

  “So you’ll hate me again tomorrow?”

  Nick didn’t respond immediately, though she thought she heard him say something that sounded like, “I don’t hate you” as they approached the car. Unfortunately, someone driving by honked their horn so she couldn’t be sure he’d spoken at all.

  Her glee over having Nick with her grew when Jason took the driver’s seat as Kristen claimed shotgun. Nick climbed in the backseat, pushing her to the middle wedged between him and Laura.

  “How come I get the bitch seat?” she asked.

  Nick rolled his eyes, but she didn’t think he was as annoyed as he was pretending. “Just buckle up, George.”

  She purposely fumbled with the seatbelt until Nick grabbed it and snapped the buckle for her, his hands brushing her hip. She sucked in a breath and fought off the desire to straddle his lap and feel that gorgeous big cock of his pressed against her pussy. It had been so long since she’d been with a man.

  A year, in fact. And the last man had been Nick.

  Distraction. She needed a distraction. And fast.

  So she turned to Laura to ask her about the guy she’d been talking to just before they left. Laura explained that she’d been friends with the man—Bryan—in high school, mercifully filling the time
between the bar and home with some funny stories about her and Bryan, who sounded like a pretty cool guy.

  When they arrived at the parking lot of their townhouses, Georgie expected the guys to say their goodbyes.

  She was delighted when Nick reached in to help her out of the car. She’d always loved how big and strong he was. She didn’t give a shit if that made her sound girlie and helpless. She just liked how easily he was able to move her around. It made her hot and horny.

  God…the vibrator was definitely coming out tonight.

  Nick turned as if he was going to get back in the car. And he would have if she hadn’t almost face-planted on the sidewalk. Thank goodness he was still close enough to catch her.

  Heels and vodka were definitely not a smart mix. She giggled as she continued to grip his forearms, his hands grasping her waist firmly.

  “Oops,” she said. “Guess you were right. I really shouldn’t have had that last shot.”

  Nick looked up to the sky quizzically.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked, swaying with the effort.

  “Lightning. Surely it’s about to strike. You just said I was right about something.”

  She laughed, then tried to find her footing again, which was surprisingly difficult. “Why is this sidewalk so lumpy?”

  Nick sighed. “Yeah. It’s the sidewalk’s fault you can’t walk.”

  Georgie didn’t have time to reply when he bent down and picked her up. She reached out instinctively to wrap her hands around his neck.

  “I’ll take her inside and get her to bed,” Nick said to Jason.

  As soon as Nick said bed, Georgie’s tipsy mind raced to at least twenty different gutters. Oh man, she missed sex with this man. For such a straight and narrow guy, he was all kinds of kinky in the bedroom.

  This night just kept getting better and better.

  If only her head weren’t so damn fuzzy.

  Nick carried Georgie upstairs, wondering how in the hell he’d let himself get here. He’d sworn he was finished with Georgie Russell forever. The girl was trouble with a capital T and he’d spent the better part of the past year alternating between drinking her away, cursing her name and missing her so bad his gut ached.

  When Jason had mentioned he was dropping documents by the bar for Kristen to sign, Nick had said he’d wait in the car. Then Jason said something about that being for the best since Georgie was with Kris and Nick had found himself turning off the engine and getting out. He’d pointedly ignored Jason’s knowing expression, the one that all but screamed, “Aha! I knew you weren’t over her yet.”

  And now, here he was, carrying an intoxicated Georgie to her bedroom, while a chorus of voices in his head called him a jackass and a fool.

  Worse than that was the fact his cock was singing its own happy tune, coming to life even though it was definitely destined for disappointment. Even if Georgie weren’t three sheets to the wind, Nick was never sleeping with her again. Ever.

  As they approached her bed, Nick bent over to place her on the mattress. He was surprised when her hands remained locked around his neck, holding him in place.

  “George,” he murmured, trying to unhook her hands.

  She giggled and he realized her eyes were open, looking at him. “Got you,” she teased. “You’re trapped. SOL.”

  Her words were slightly slurred, but not inaccurate. He was definitely shit out of luck tonight. Standing somewhere he had no business being.

  He narrowed his eyes, but stopped trying to escape her surprisingly strong grip. “How much did you drink?”

  Georgie’s lower lip came out and she looked like a young child. “Not as much as I was going to. You broke up my girl party. You owe me.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he didn’t owe her a damn thing. After all, she was the one who’d left him standing at the altar with egg all over his face. She was the one who’d ripped his heart out and stomped on it. She was the one who haunted his dreams night after night and left his body aching with unbearable desires he wished would just go away.

  He hadn’t slept with a woman since Georgie, though it hadn’t been for lack of trying. He’d gone out quite a few nights with nothing short of a hookup on his mind, but he’d never managed to convince himself to take any of the willing women home with him. He’d spend hours with gorgeous women, talking and flirting. And flaccid. Then he’d go home alone, see Georgie’s face in his dreams, and become hard enough to drive nails in concrete. It was maddening.

  However, he didn’t bother to call her to task. She was drunk and he was fairly certain she wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning.

  “Let go of me, George. You need to sleep this off.”

  She held his gaze, though her focus seemed to waver. Then her arms dropped. He stood, intent on leaving until she started trying to unbutton her jeans, clumsily. He watched her for several minutes, waging an internal battle with himself.

  Get the fuck out of here.

  Stick around for the show.

  Go now, you moron.

  Finally, Georgie made the decision for him. “I can’t get out,” she said. “I’m stuck.”

  He would have chuckled at the panic in her drunken voice if he weren’t struggling so hard to control his damn arousal. “Just sleep in your clothes.”

  “Can’t breathe. Jeans too tight.”

  She had that right. He’d nearly yanked her out of the bar when he’d spotted her wiggling her firm, gorgeous ass with all those guys on the dance floor. “Dammit, George.”

  He resented being put in this position, but it was his own fault for getting out of the damn car. He should have let Jason run into Blue Moon to get his document signed and then the two of them would have moved on to another bar. He’d made this bed by being such an idiot.

  Nick pushed her hands away as she continued to fight with the button.

  He quickly unfastened it, and then slid the zipper down. He paused and held his breath when she lifted her hips and waited for him to tug the denim off. Nick closed his eyes briefly, praying for strength, and then he slipped the sexy-as-fuck heels off her feet and dragged the jeans down.

  If he’d been any sort of gentleman, he would have thrown a comforter over her and left the room. Unfortunately, he didn’t possess that much willpower. His gaze drifted over her shapely legs before honing in on her tiny pale-blue panties with a little white flower on them. They were lace. God. He’d always loved her feminine underpants.

  Georgie was oblivious to his stare. She slipped off a necklace with some charm he couldn’t see and rolled clumsily three times to the other side of her bed where she tucked it into a jewelry box. Then she rolled back, giggling. “I’m dizzy.”

  “Jesus,” he muttered when her hands began fighting to tug her blouse off.

  She’s trying to kill me.

  Nick watched her struggle for a few seconds, and then he started on the buttons, slipped them free one at a time. He blew out a long breath as he pushed the silk over her shoulders. The blouse joined the jeans on the floor and he was treated to a view of the push-up bra that matched her sexy panties.

  His cock thickened even more and he sympathized with her complaint about her jeans being too tight. He tried to covertly reposition the poor guy before the denim cut off all circulation. He needed to get the hell out of this room.

  “Nick.”

  He glanced at Georgie’s face, surprised to see some of her previous drunken giddiness had faded.

  “I gotta go, George.”

  She nodded. “I know. But…”

  He paused, resisting the urge to leave as much as the desire to stay. “But what?” His tone was abrupt, angry. It seemed the only two emotions he was able to manage with her these days were anger and lust. The combination was uncomfortable as hell.

  For a moment, it seemed as if she w
as going to say something very serious. Her eyes were sad. He didn’t need to hear this. Couldn’t hear it.

  He started to turn, just as she swallowed heavily and said, “I don’t feel so good.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re too tiny to drink that much vodka. I’ve told you this before. You drink like a goddamn linebacker.”

  She giggled and for the first time, Nick felt his lips tip up at the sound. Georgie had a great laugh.

  “I don’t like being sick.”

  “I know.”

  “The room is spinning and there’s the loud sort of roaring in my ears and I can’t feel my lips. That’s not good, is it?”

  He shook his head.

  “Will you stay with me? Just for a little while?”

  Nick glanced at the door. He could be out of this room, down the stairs and back on the street in less than twenty steps. Then he looked at her once more and gruffly said, “Scoot over.”

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Jason a message that said he might be a little while. He got a quick reply from his friend that told him to take his time.

  Georgie made room for him on the bed and he dropped down, lying next to her and cursing himself for being so fucking stupid. Despite his fully dressed, shoes-still-on state, she was practically naked. A truth that became even more obvious when she placed her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist.

  “You’re so big.” Her words were slurred, sleepy. He hoped she’d pass out quickly so he could extricate himself from her hold and escape. Jason was waiting at Kristen’s place and no doubt the two of them were laughing their asses off that Nick was still here.

  Jason had sworn—even after Georgie ran—that she was the perfect woman for him. Then Jason would remind Nick that he’d warned him to nail the windows in the church shut and to lock all the doors. It was true. Jason had said all that. But Nick hadn’t wanted to trap her in the church just to get her to marry him. Of course, he hadn’t thought she’d take off either.