Thank you for your continued support. I appreciate it and I appreciate you. And for all your kind words, I say a sincere THANK YOU.

Standard disclaimer.

Warning: Bad language and assumptions on excessive drinking.

MERCEDES

The music in the bar was pumping. It was beating a steady thrum, which seemed to matched my pulse.

I don't really know what song was playing. It was probably one I'd be too embarrassed to admit, that I had on my iPhone, but right now I didn't care. Tonight was perfect.

My skin was damp and my throat was parched, but I felt good...no...great. I felt...free and weightless, my head blissfully empty.

Smiling, I lifted my arms up, tipped my head back and smiled.

"Whoa," a male voice said from behind me.

I think his name was Todd? Tim? Taylor? Tiny Tim? I giggled. The guy lowered my right arm.

"You're going to dump this all over yourself," he said.

Dangling from my fingers was a slender glass, still half-full. I'd forgotten all about my drink. It was something fruity and sugary and awesome.

Wrapping my lips around the straw, I slurped happily, as my hips swayed to the music.

I closed my eyes again, letting myself get lost in the best possible way.

God, I needed tonight, because, of...stuff...because, of what happened last night at Caleb's and Shay's apartment. Because, of what Sam had said and the ensuing pep talk from Shay, which happened outside their apartment.

I don't think he meant anything by it, she'd said. I think he's just worried. We all are worried...

A kernel of unease had blossomed in the pit of my belly, when she spoke that last word.

Worried?

Why were they worried?

There was nothing going on.

I shook my head, sending my curls flying. I wasn't going to think about any of that. Not tonight.

But remnants of that conversation by my car, floated through my clouded thoughts.

Shay: You spent an entire week last month not talking to anyone.

Me: I was busy.

Shay: You got really sick the last time we went out. It was scary...I was scared.

Me: It hadn't been that scary.

Shay: Do you even know who that guy was, you left with?

I didn't want to think about that guy or that night, so I pushed those thoughts away and focused on the fun I intend to have tonight.

Large hands landed on my hips, and then I felt a warm and sticky breath against my cheek.

The scent of beer washed over me, ramping up the unease.

"You are so sexy."

I frowned, and for a brief moment, I had no idea who the dude was, and then, I realized, it was the same guy with the 'T' name.

Turning my head to the side, away from his, I opened my eyes and asked,

"What's your name again?"

The question didn't seem to offend the guy. He laughed, and squeezed my hips.

"You can call me whatever you want," he said, and even as buzzed as I was, I knew what kind of guy this was.

He didn't care if I could even spell his name. All he was interested in, was the likelihood of me going home with him...or not.

It wouldn't even matter if I passed out on him. He probably didn't know my name, and he really didn't put any value to that.

He wasn't here to meet a girl he saw a future with, beyond a few sweaty minutes. He was here for a hook-up.

The hands on my hips slid forward and his thumbs hooked through the loops on my jeans.

I brought the glass to my mouth, finding it empty.

Lifting my gaze, I looked around the bar and immediately, I saw him. The air leaked out of my lungs.

Sam sat at one of the tall, round tables. Caleb and Shay were with him, but their heads were bent towards each other, their gazes fastened together.

He was staring at me. And his green eyes weren't lazy-looking. They were narrowed and he looked angry...furious, actually.

Heat traveled across my cheeks, and I wanted to look away, but I couldn't.

A girl approached their table and I recognized her...I think.

She was pretty...blonde, with pink streaks in her hair, and it was obvious, she worked hard to fit into those skinny jeans she wore.

She went straight for Sam, angling her body towards him.

He looked up and the irritated look faded from his handsome face, replaced by an easy and welcoming smile...the kind of smile, I was rarely on the receiving end of.

"I need another drink," I said, looking away.

But it was too late. I couldn't get that smile out of my mind. It was cute...a crooked type of grin, as if he hadn't fully committed to a smile yet, but was happy.

"Yeah?" What's-his-name hauled me against him, my back to his front. "I can get you a drink," he said.

That sounded perfect for several reasons, mainly because, I wanted another drink, but I also wanted my personal space back more.

Except, that's not what the guy did. He didn't let go.

Dry lips brushed my cheek, as his hips ground against my rear, and I could feel him, like really feel him.

Okay. I was so done with this. I wasn't that drunk yet.

Stepping forward, I yanked myself free...or at least tried to.

I got a couple of inches between us, before he pulled me back.

I bounced off his chest, almost dropping my glass.

"Where do you think you're going? We're having fun," he asked, then said.

"I am not having fun." I twisted, grabbing his hand with my free one, and dug my nails in. "Let go."

"What?" Spittle flew from his mouth, and my stomach turned a little more. "We're just dancing. Come on. Let's have fun."

"I don't even know your name," I heard myself say, which sounded stupid to my own ears, because, a handful of moments earlier, I hadn't cared if I knew his name or not. "And you don't even know my name."

"Do I need to?" he asked.

I jerked to the side as someone...another couple...knocked into us, but his words held me immobile, recycling around in my head.

For some reason, I suddenly wanted him to say something different. That he wanted to know my name...to know me.

I bet Sam knew the name of the girl who was talking to him.

Dumb.

This was so dumb.

SAM

My foot tapped off the sticky-ass floor, at rocket speed.

I didn't know how much longer I was going to be expected to sit here and watch Mercedes do whatever the fuck she was doing.

She had been in a weird mood when she showed up at the bar. Quiet...almost shy, in the way she had kept stealing quick glances at me.

Part of me wondered, if she'd been drinking before she arrived, but I really wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt and believe that she wasn't stupid enough to drink and drive.

Yeah, she liked to party and could get wild, but she wasn't dangerously stupid or irresponsible.

However, she had started drinking the moment she'd gotten here, and she hadn't stopped.

I've lost count of how many empty glasses she has racked up.

I could see it was going to be one of those nights.

My skin pricked, like an army of fire ants was crawling all over me, as I sat back and did nothing, when she announced she wanted to dance.

Shay had joined her for a while, but she had returned without her. And now, Mercedes was turning the dance floor into her own personal showcase.

Every damn pair of male eyes, that weren't on their own girls, was fastened on Mercedes.

We were like fucking heat-seeking missiles, when it came to hot chicks, and she was one hell of a flesh-and-blood target.

Those deep-red highlighted curls, swung in every direction, as she raised her arms above her head and swayed her hips to some rock song.

And her pretty face looked flushed as it glowed with a fine sheen of sweat.

The black shirt she wore rode up, revealing a quick glimpse of brown skin, above the band of her jeans...and those damn jeans..they were like a glove, made perfectly for her shapely ass.

Yet, I still sat there, doing nothing...unable to move or look away, just like the other guys in the bar couldn't look away.

And my jeans felt about five times tighter.

When some tall, goofy-looking son-of-a-bitch started grinding all up on Mercedes, I stayed in my chair, but leaned forward, because, my attention had shifted.

In that moment, I realized, that the whole time I'd been sitting here, I'd been hardcore lusting after a girl, who'd likely punch me in the nuts, instead of grabbing them in a fun way.

A different kind of feeling brewed inside of me. And it had nothing to do with desire...more to do with the need to piss around Mercedes like some kind of caveman.

I had never, in my entire life, felt the need to do that, and I had no idea why I wanted to do it now.

What the...? Goofy SOB grabbed her hips.

My eyes narrowed, as an irrational anger surfaced.

Why in the fuck was she letting this guy climb all over her? He looked like a dumb motherfucker, and she deserved way better than that.

Something moved to my right, and I looked, surprised to see Brooke Barnes walking towards me.

She smiled, as her gaze flickered over to Caleb and Shaylee.

"Hey," she said to me, her voice carrying the soft southern drawl, that announced she was not local. "I haven't seen you all summer. I thought you'd left the city."

"Nah. Just busy working. You?"

She tucked a long strand of pink-and-blonde hair behind her ear.

"Same here. I've got one more semester left at UMD. You graduated, right?"

"Yep."

I glanced quickly back to where Mercedes was and swallowed a curse.

Goofy SOB's hands were in an area, I so did not appreciate.

Was Mercedes too...buzzed, to realize where his hands were? Because, I knew she normally wouldn't be down with that kind of shit.

"Well, if you're still around, give me a call," Brooke said, and my attention swung back to her.

It took a moment to get what she was saying...what she was offering.

"I'll answer," she added, with a cute little smile.

Shit! Shit on a sundae.

Brooke and I'd hooked up a few times over the years. Nothing serious, and normally, I'd be filing that little offer away to act upon, in the not too distant future, but right now, there wasn't even a speck of interest.

If I hadn't been inappropriately hard a few moments earlier, I would've thought my dick had stopped working.

Feeling like an ass, I forced a smile, because, I've had a lot of fun with Brooke and she was a good girl.

"Sure," I replied.

She started to say something, but my attention wandered back to where Mercedes was. To be honest, I was over this conversation and being polite.

Goofy SOB was tugging on Mercedes, and it was obvious, she wasn't happy with the treatment. I didn't stop to think.

"I'll be right back," I announced, glancing at the couple sitting with me.

Caleb lifted a brow, but said nothing, and I kind of think he knew better.

Standing, I nodded at Brooke, and didn't look back as I crossed the floor.

Nearing the cluster of dancers, I heard Mercedes say,

"And you don't even know my name." Her words slurred together a bit, and my shoulders tensed.

"Do I need to?" the guy replied.

My gut clenched and my entire body jerked.

From behind, I smacked my hand down on the guy's shoulder and he let go of Mercedes.

I saw her stumble to the side, catching herself before she lost her balance.

Our eyes met briefly. Hers were glazed over, and my anger hit another level.

"Yeah, if you want to be touching her, you need to know her fucking name," I said, flattening my hand and shoving him back a good step.

Before he could react, I got between him and Mercedes.

"But you don't need to know her name. You don't even need to remember. You're not worth any of that," I went on.

Goofy SOB tried to step towards me, and I'm proof-fucking-positive, the look on my face made him change his mind.

"Who the hell are you? Her boyfriend?"

I almost laughed in his face, except, Mercedes had already been insulted enough for the evening, even if she had no clue.

"Yeah. So get the fuck out of my face, before I knock you through that goddamn door."

"Sam." Mercedes' hand pressed against my lower back, but I didn't take my eyes off the guy.

Tensing, I waited for the asshole to do anything, but he raised his hand and flipped me off, before turning around and stalking away.

All I could do was laugh at his retreating form.

The guy might be a classless asshole, but he had common sense. By appearance alone, I had a good twenty or so pounds of muscle on his scrawny ass.

The hand on my back dropped away, and I drew in a deep breath, before I turned around.

That was a good idea, because, that breath got stuck somewhere in my chest, and I had no idea what the hell was up with that.

Did ovaries replace my balls at some point?

Possibly.

Mercedes stared up at me, her full pouty lips parted. Her brown eyes were wide and full of such a potent sadness, an urge to sweep her into my arms hit me hard.

I barely felt whoever it was that bumped into me, as I moved towards her. Her lips moved, but I didn't hear what she said.

"What?" I asked.

"You don't smile at me," she said louder, and I blinked. Her shoulders rose with a heavy sigh, and that urge increased.

"Andy," I said, shaking my head. "I always smile at you."

"No. Not really." She lifted her empty glass, looking down at it. "That guy had grabby hands."

"Yeah, he did."

I didn't want to talk about that asshole, though. I wanted to change the forlorn quality to her words.

Folding my hand around her smaller one, I took the empty glass out of her hand.

"Come on."

Of course, she dug her heels in.

"I wanna dance."

I lifted a brow, as I walked around her, stretching our arms out, as I leaned over, placing her drink on the bar.

"You sure about that?"

She cocked her head to the side, brows knitting.

"Yeah."

Slipping her hand free from mine, Mercedes threw her arms up and whirled around.

Balance off, she stumbled to the side, right towards a group of guys, waiting to get served at the bar.

'Oh, this was going to end badly.'

Shooting forward, I wrapped an arm around her waist, stopping her from face-planting some random dude's back.

Her giggle was infectious and also worrying, as she fell back against me.

Placing her hands on my arm, she started to twist her hips against my groin. My jaw clenched, as a jolt of lust slammed into my gut, fierce and fast.

Aaand...back to the inappropriate hardness.

God, mini Sam freaking throbbed, as I stepped back, trying to put some space between us.

"Andy," I all but groaned. "What are you doing?"

Turning her head to the side, her eyes were closed as she smiled.

"I'm dancing, and you're just standing there."

She was right. I was just standing there.

And roughly five seconds later, she turned me into her own personal stripper pole.

Turning around, she placed her hands on my chest, as she slid down, her palms trailing over my abs.

I jerked on reflex, my mouth dry, as she reached the belt on my jeans and smiled up at me.

Aaand...the throbbing increased tenfold.

I wanted to let her go, to see how far she'd take this. A very huge part of me wanted that so damn badly, and she was so close, practically on her knees, as she stared up at me, her fingers nearing my fly.

'Good God!'

I grabbed her wrists, before she went any further, and I ended up turning into one of those guys I hated.

Hauling Mercedes up, I tried not to smile when she pouted at me.

"I'm taking you home," I told her.

One eyebrow lifted.

"Wow, that escalated quickly."

I ignored how a certain part of me, got all kinds of interested.

"Knock it off."

"How about bang it off?" she said, and then tipped her head back and laughed like that made an ounce of sense. "I don't know if I want to go home with you."

"That's okay." I slipped an arm around her shoulder, before she turned away from me. "Because, I'm taking you back to your place, not mine."

Her lips turned down, as if she was confused by what I was saying, and I used that distraction to my advantage, guiding her towards Caleb and Shaylee.

Both looked smug and stared at us with knowing look.

I glared at them and opened my mouth, but Mercedes beat me to it.

"He's taking me ho-oo-me," she said, laughing, as she started to dance away with me. "All the waaay ho-oo-me," she sung. "Oh yeah, we're gonna go ho-oo-me."

What the holy hell?

My lips twitched, as I caught her hand and Shaylee's eyes widened with alarm.

"We can take her back," she offered.

"You guys are having fun," I told them. "There's no reason for you to leave."

Shay raised a brow.

"Uh-huh."

"Yeah, because that's just weird," Mercedes said.

She stopped dancing, but she swung our arms between us, like she was two years old, and I tried not to find the act adorable.

"I like you guys, but four is like more than a company. It's like some freaky swinger shit."

Shay choked on her drink.

"Not that I'm saying, being a swinger means anyone is a freak," Mercedes chirped on blithely. "But I'm not in a relationship, so it wouldn't be swinging. It would be an orgy, and I don't really want to see either of you naked."

All I could do was stare.

Caleb covered his mouth with his fingers and murmured,

"Feeling is mutual."

Mercedes nodded understandingly and rather somberly, and then looked up at me, still swinging our arms.

"Are we leaving now? Because, I would like another drink."

"We're leaving now," I said.

She sighed.

"You're no fun, you party-pooper-pants-pooper."

"I really have no idea what to say to that," I admitted.

She rolled her eyes.

Popping up from her seat, Shay slid Mercedes' purse over her shoulder and then gave her a quick hug.

Looking up at me, she gave me her best serious face.

"If it was anyone else, I would not let her leave, but I trust you. Don't make me regret that trust."

A bit of guilt burned, because, it wasn't like I was having completely clean thoughts about Mercedes, especially, if she did another little dance.

"You won't. She'll make it home safely."

"She better," Shay warned, fucking fierce for a pint-size thing.

"Y'all know, I'm standing right here." Mercedes flipped her curls with her free hand. "Maybe I don't want to be safe. Maybe I want to live dangerously."

Shay sighed.

"No you don't."

"Maybe I want to get on my Grindr account," she announced.

I frowned.

"What?"

"You do not have a Grindr account," Shay said.

Mercedes narrowed her eyes, looking a bit cross-eyed.

"Maybe I do."

"This is epic," Caleb said.

"Grindr is mostly for gay guys the last time I checked," Shay explained, shaking her head. "And I just don't think you really qualify for that."

Mercedes blinked.

"I meant Tinder."

"You so do not have a Tinder account," I said.

She smiled at me, all innocence, and I suddenly wanted to burn her phone and the world down, with gasoline and piss.

It was time to get her home, and that process took a God-awful amount of time.

She was like a drunk hummingbird, buzzing from one thing to the next, and by the time I got her inside her apartment, I was exhausted.

Apparently, Mercedes had an endless supply of energy, because, she dropped her purse on the floor, kicked off her heels, and immediately made a mad dash for her kitchen.

I knew she was heading for something to drink, and that wouldn't be water.

Picking up her purse, I placed it on a chair, dropped her house keys in the bag, and then intercepted her.

Placing my hands on her shoulders, I steered her towards the narrow hall.

"Why don't you go get ready for bed?"

She rocked back on her bare feet, her smile crinkling the skin around her eyes.

"Geez, Sammy-whammy, you move fast."

Again, inappropriate thoughts to the max.

"Andy, come on. You know I'm not here for that."

"I don't know that," she said, dancing away from me.

She started to walk backwards down the hall, her hands fluttering to the hem of her shirt. But I was more concerned with her tripping and breaking her neck.

"I don't know why you're here at all."

As I followed her, my gaze dropped to where the swell of her breasts, pushed against the material of her shirt.

With great effort, I managed to pull my gaze up.

"I brought you home."

"Duh."

She stopped at the entrance of her bedroom and leaned against the wall.

A thin sliver of her belly was exposed, as she toyed with her shirt.

"Double duh," she said, then she moved.

My spine straightened like someone had poured steel down it.

Damn, the image she offered right there, was almost too much to resist.

Her back was arched slightly and her eyes heavily hooded, as she toyed with the hem of her shirt.

Each breath she took, raised breasts I'd always known would be fucking glorious, because, if they looked that good covered up, they'd have to be marvelous with nothing hiding them.

Mercedes pressed the back of her head against the wall and wet her lips.

Mini Sam jerked in response.

"Andy..."

"Sam..." she mimicked.

I bit back a groan, and then tensed, as she suddenly pushed off the wall.

She swayed a little on her feet as she eyed me.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Nuttin'."

No way did I believe her.

Wariness and a whole different kind of emotion warred inside me, as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked.

"Sure." My voice had thickened.

She tilted her head to the side, lashes lowering.

"Why have we never hooked up?"

"What?" I really prayed, that I had heard something different.

"Are you being coy?" she moved an inch closer. "Or are you just dumb?"

"Whoa. You really know how to come on to a guy."

Her grin flashed, and then disappeared quickly.

"Don't you want...?"

"Don't finish that question," I cut her off, more roughly than I intended.

It was like watching air being let out of a balloon. She deflated that quickly.

Shoulders lowering, as her hands moved to her denim-clad thighs. She dipped her chin as she shrugged.

"Yeah. Okay." She turned sideways, towards the door, lifting her chin slightly. "I'm home. Y-You can go now."

"Andy, I..."

What could I say?

That the idea of her coming on to me, only when she was drunk, filled me with the urge to punch something?

And that when she was sober, she was more likely to stab me than smile at me?

She stopped, her lashes lifting, as she looked up at me. Her smile was wan, so unlike the earlier ones.

"It's okay," she said.

My tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth. I had no idea what to do with her, but then she placed her hands on my chest again.

There was enough time to stop her, more than enough time, but I didn't, and I had no idea what that said about me, then again, I wasn't thinking.

Mercedes stretched up, as her hands reached my shoulders and she pressed her lips against mine. It was soft and quick.

She tasted of sugar and liquor...her mouth warm and sweet, as her lips moved over mine.

The single kiss hit me hard. It jarred me and rattled me up. So much so, that when she moved away, entering the bedroom and partly closing the door behind her, I didn't move for what felt like five minutes.

No shit.

There was a good chance I actually did stand there for five minutes, like some kind of dumbass, with a hard-on for a girl who was so drunk, I had to cart her sweet ass home.

But she kissed me.

She kissed me while drunk, which canceled out the whole kissing part.

"Fuck," I muttered, rubbing my hand over my head, as I stared at the door.

Part of me wanted to run, the other half was still dumbstruck.

I needed to check on her. That's what I told myself, when I walked forward and pushed at her door.

The lamp was on, casting the room in a soft buttery glow.

Mercedes was on the bed, lying atop the covers, half on her side and half on her belly. I couldn't leave her like that. No way.

Walking over to the bed, I carefully lifted her legs and managed to get them under the comforter, shifting her, so that she was safely lying on her side.

Then, I grabbed one of her extra-long body pillows, shoving in behind her back, so she couldn't roll over, just in case she got sick.

"You change your mind?" she mumbled.

I coughed out a laugh, as I tugged up the comforter.

"No, Andy."

She sighed heavily, and when I glanced down, her thick dark lashes fanned her cheeks.

"Stop calling me that...dick."

Another chuckle rumbled out of me. She was insulting me. That had to mean, that I've seen her far worse than this.

"You have such a mouth on you."

There was no response, as she had fallen asleep. A strange, soft smile tugged at my mouth as I stared down at her.

"I'll lock up," I said, even though I knew she didn't hear me.

I reached for the lamp, hesitating. This wasn't the first time I'd put her sweet ass to bed.

The first time, she'd been a mess, drunk off her ass, but this...yeah, this was the same, except, last time, she hadn't said I never smiled at her, and she hadn't kissed me.

Her lush lips parted, as she rocked a little, as if she was trying to roll onto her back, but couldn't do it.

Under the covers, her legs curled up, and something odd in my chest clenched. Kind of like a pressure clamping down.

It wasn't necessarily bad, but different, and I had no idea what to make of that.

I never had any idea, of what to make of Mercedes...not even from the first time I'd met her at a bar, outside of College Park, sitting next to Shay.

Immediately, I had been interested in her.

Oh man...those curves? The lips? That ass?

But then, she'd taken one look at me, opened her mouth, and I quickly learned the girl had a razor-sharp tongue.

And she did not like me.

Oh, she wanted me. I knew that for damn sure. I'd seen the way she'd looked at me, when she didn't think I was paying attention, but I'd never let myself even think about going there.

I didn't even know why I was letting myself do it now.

But fuck, I was.

Several curls had toppled across her freckled cheek, and without thinking, I reached down and carefully brushed them back.

The contact with her silky soft cheek, sent a jolt through me, and I yanked my hand back.

Staring down at her, a rough breath punched out of me.

Sweet Jesus! I wanted to touch her again, really, in a very bad way.

My fingers practically buzzed to pull that cover back, to see if that swell of her breasts, was just as soft as her cheek, or if her thighs were as sweet.

Cutting off those thoughts was harder than I ever imagined.

Turning from the bed, I saw a tiny trashcan and grabbed it, positioning it by her bed.

Then I went out to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water and brought that back into the bedroom, placing it on the nightstand.

She'll be thirsty when she wakes up. She'll probably have one hell of a headache, too.

There was no real reason to linger any longer, but I worried about Mercedes...about how much she drank, if she'd be sick in the middle of the night, when there'd be no one here to look after her.

I thought about calling Caleb and getting Shay on the phone, but I ended up planting my ass in a silver chair, that was low to the floor, but surprisingly comfortable.

I ended up sitting there for hours, until the first rays of dawn began to peek through the curtains of the large window...until I was sure, that there was little chance she would be sick.

When I realized, I'd spent the entire night, like some kind of bedside nurse, something I'd never done before...never even considered doing before, I was shocked.

Even though I was tired and my back ached, like I was much older than my twenty-three years, I knew that meant something...it had to.

But I wasn't sure what to make of it.

Stay safe!