The Collector (Emergence Book 1) by Kelly Lynn Colby

Author:Kelly Lynn Colby [Colby, Kelly Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781951445157
Publisher: Cursed Dragon Ship Publishing, LLC
Published: 2021-02-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Tucker proved to be everything I had imagined. Even his gentle snoring in his bed—that we thoroughly destroyed—was appealing. My curse was numb with the overuse as a few other body parts throbbed with the memory. I considered waking him and having one more go before I left.

I stopped myself though, because that would be breaking my cardinal rule: no relationships, just hook ups. My finger traced his back muscles to his thick shoulder blade. What the heck. I wasn’t Catholic. Screw the cardinal rule.

Oh boy, these conversations I had with myself cracked me up. I couldn’t even get along with my own thoughts. How the hell was I going to make a relationship work? Plus, I came here fair and square with no expectations.

The streetlight from outside highlighted the clean condo with fresh-pressed scrubs hanging in the closet. At least, Tucker wasn’t a slob. I’d been to some awful places to feed my appetite, but this one was pretty nice. My aching muscles encouraged me to snuggle closer and fall asleep. A groan escaped my lips as reason attempted to win over the alcohol haze. I’d never stayed until morning. I wouldn’t even know how to handle myself in the daylight.

Sober.

After rolling out of bed as quietly as I could manage, I played my favorite post-sex game: Where were my clothes? My shirt was easy. It was always easy because it was always right by the door. Every time. As I scoured his apartment to reassemble my outfit, I felt amazing, except for the lost-in-the-desert-sized thirst. I opened his fridge but didn’t see any water. A beer would have to do. I twisted the top off and downed it.

By the time I squeezed back into my impossible leather skirt, it was just past 1 a.m.

Having no idea where I was, I took another beer from the fridge and snuck out the door. By the time I hit the street, the second beer was almost gone. I remembered getting there, but most of the time, my face was stuck in Tucker’s and I didn’t actually pay attention to the streets or the area of town I ended up in. I squinted at the CVS across the street and then saw my favorite Mexican restaurant.

Midtown. Oh, good. I knew exactly where I was.

As I fumbled for my phone to summon a ride, realization of what else I was next to hit me.

My mood dropped, as did the bottle I’d been holding.

“Shit!” I yelled as the dregs in the bottle splashed on my legs and glass sprinkled the sidewalk where normal, not-drunk-on-a-weekday people would walk tomorrow.

I tried to restore my mood and block the bloody scene from Sunday, the event that changed my life. Maybe I should have stayed in bed with that scrumptious Tucker. I yanked my fingers through my hair, like the strands were in my face blurring my vision, not the copious amounts of alcohol I’d consumed. The blue building a couple blocks down, however, was in perfect focus.

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