Read A Perfect Ten Page 32


  “Crazy,” Zoey said for him as she turned to me. “She went freaking insane, like tried to kill herself, slit her wrists, took a bunch of pills. She just...she’s a mess. And now she’s at a rehabilitation center, under observation. Oh, but not only do I have that to feel guilty about, but then our father goes and tells me he’s giving all the money he took away from her to me.”

  “Wait. What do you have to feel guilty about?” I asked.

  “Her dad took her away from Ellamore because of me. I uprooted her entire life. I stole her boyfriend. I—”

  “You did not steal me,” Quinn growled, sitting up to take Zoey’s face into his hands and making her look him in the eye. “We fell in love.”

  But Zoey’s bottom lip trembled. “None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t come to Ellamore.”

  “Yeah, and she’d probably be dead right now,” I broke in, making both halves of Zwinn turn their attention to me. “You gave her a kidney, Zo. After all the shit she put you and Quinn through, you still saved her life. You did nothing wrong. If Cora cracked, it’s her own damn fault, and I say she deserves everything she gets.”

  “Amen,” Quinn said quietly as he kissed Zoey’s temple.

  Zoey leaned into him, set her hand supportively on his thigh, and turned her gaze to me. “I just...I don’t really want that money. Her money. It feels tainted. I mean, look what it turned her into.”

  I lifted a censorious finger. “First of all, she turned herself into a wicked bitch. Money had nothing to do with the evil in that girl. And secondly...” I shrugged. “You don’t have to take any money you don’t want to. Don’t ever let rich people try to control you with cash. But...”

  When her eyes sharpened as if she really wanted to hear my but, I smiled and paused. Then I murmured, “I’m sure you could always find something useful for it. Charities...or maybe a new trust fund for your future children.”

  She gnawed on her lip thoughtfully. “I guess you’re right.”

  Quinn began to rock her back and forth with his arms tight around her. “I’m with Caroline. You could do whatever you want with it. And you’re too good inside to let any kind of money turn you into something you’re not. But as long as it never gets back to Cora, I’m happy.”

  After another moment of thought, Zoey nodded. “You guys are right. Maybe I will take it.”

  Quinn kissed her hair, and I squeezed her hand. “Damn right, you will.”

  My cell phone rang, making every muscle in my body tense. “It’s Oren,” I announced, my stomach leaping with nerves when I saw his name. “Hey. How’d the interview go?”

  “God, your voice sounds good,” he answered. “But where are you? Our room’s empty.”

  “I’m down in Zwinn’s room. They just got back, and holy shit. I have a feeling you’re going to love the news about Cora.”

  “Oh, yeah? What about her? Please tell me she’s in a nut-house.”

  I laughed, wondering how the hell he’d guessed that. I was filling him in about how she’d cracked when the door to the room came open and he walked in.

  “It’s about time Whora finally got what she deserved,” he announced as he strode to me. Picking me up off the bed, he kissed me hard. He was still wearing that hot suit, so I grabbed his tie and held on to it as his tongue spiked possessively into my mouth.

  “Does this mean your interview went well?” I asked when I breathlessly pulled away for air.

  He closed his eyes and buried his face in my hair. “Yeah,” he said, sounding a little reluctant to admit it. “It went...great, actually.”

  Pain sliced through me. I knew it was awful of me to have a small part that secretly hoped he had crashed and burned so he couldn’t leave me, but I couldn’t help it. It was going to hurt like hell when we had to part.

  “I’m so happy for you.” I kissed his chest, and his lashes flickered open.

  His gaze was unreadable for a moment before he glanced around the room and announced, “Let’s get drunk.”

  Zoey wanted to change before heading down to the beach, but Oren was antsy to get his party on, as he called it. I wanted a moment alone with my bestie to see how she was really holding up after her trip today, so as the guys left ahead of us, us girls found some appropriate beachwear to change into.

  “So, really?” I asked as Zoey tied a beach wrap into place around her one-piece bathing suit. “How’re you doing?”

  She sighed. “Really? I have no idea.” Then she looked at me and laughed. “I’m kind of relieved and yet feel awful for Cora, and yet I’m glad she got what was coming to her, but then I totally feel guilty for thinking that, and—”

  I caught her hand to calm her. Then I smiled. “It’s okay. I get it.”

  She nodded. “I think Quinn’s okay too. He looked really surprised when Mr....I mean, my dad told us about her, but...I think he’s okay.”

  “I’m sure he’s feeling most of the same things you are,” I agreed. “I mean, Cora screwed him over almost as much as she screwed you.” Then I grinned at her. “But I think it’s adorable how worried about each other you two are.” With a pat on her arm, I declared, “You’re both going to come away from this just fine.”

  She finally agreed, and I took her hand to lead her from the hotel room. I told her about how hot I thought Oren had looked in his suit as we strolled down the cobble steps toward the opening at the beach, and she rolled her eyes before telling me I was hopeless. Then she pointed. “Oh, there’s the guys.”

  I looked up to find both Quinn and Oren just ahead of us on the path. They’d changed into T-shirts and board shorts and were being waylaid by three women who’d stopped in front of them.

  One of them was lowering the top of her bikini and flashing Oren and Quinn her tits. “Are you boys looking for some fun?”

  “Whoa.” Quinn immediately turned away. His eyes were wide with horrified shock as he faced our way and saw us coming toward them. But Oren didn’t bolt in the least.

  Of course, I couldn’t see his expression from the back, but it was obvious he stared at her exposed chest for more than a few seconds.

  Then he finally said, “You know...you shouldn’t be so proud of those things, honey.”

  The woman’s mouth dropped open, clearly insulted. “Excuse me?”

  Oren snorted. “Too small.” He pointed at the woman to the right. “Too fake.” He hitched his chin toward the one on the left. Then he pointed at the one still exposing herself in the middle. “And too fucking saggy. I mean, really. If you want to see a set of full perfect, natural breasts, you should see my girlfriend’s.” He whistled, long and loud. “Now hers are grade-A prime tatas.”

  Quinn chose that moment to clear his throat and elbow Oren in the arm. Oren glanced at him. “What?”

  Quinn pointed to us, and Oren swung our way. When his gaze met mine, his grin grew. “There,” he called. “Come here, baby.”

  When I reached him, he grabbed my wrist and swung me around until I was facing the stunned ladies still gaping at him. Swooping his arms around me from behind, he cupped my breasts in both his hands. “Check this shit out.” His fingers kneaded me through my clothes. “Now this is perfection. Best breasts ever.”

  While the three ladies gasped in stunned shock before scurrying away, I glanced over my shoulder at him only to wince at the potency of his breath.

  “How much have you drunk already?”

  His grin was a little glassy. “No idea, but we’re going to have fun catching you up with me.”

  I swear, an eighteen-wheeler is what woke me the next morning, as it rammed its headlights straight into my skull and then backed up before slamming into it again.

  I groaned and then winced from hearing my own too-loud voice. “Holy...fuck.”

  It’d been a while since I’d woken up with this kind of hangover. I lay on the sheets a second before I could be sure I was in one piece. Light from the crack in the window curtain continued to irritate my headache, but there was no way I was
moving anytime soon to go slide it all the way closed.

  “Oh my God,” a voice croaked from my left. “Why is there so much sand in the bed?”

  I managed to roll my head that way and was eternally relieved to see Caroline beside me because I remembered nothing—not a fucking thing—from the night before, except vague visions of dancing with her on the beach at some party with a bunch of strangers.

  “From the amount of sand in my ass crack,” I slurred, “I’m going to go out on a limb and say we probably had sex on the beach.”

  She whimpered and clutched her head before begging, “Please...make it stop.”

  I was in no condition to get off the bed, but my woman was miserable, so I rolled until I fell off the side and landed in a heap on the floor. Cursing my sore muscles and pounding head, I grabbed the nightstand and used it to help me crawl to my feet. Naked and tangled in the sheets, Caroline watched me from blurry, bloodshot eyes.

  “I got you,” I mumbled and scooped her up, more stumbling sideways to the bathroom than walking a straight line.

  She slumped her cheek against my shoulder and clung to me in a weak, limp kind of way. Grateful there was a bench to sit on in our shower, I sat her down and started the water, making sure I had the right temperature before turning it on her.

  Sighing in gratitude when the spray hit her, she cracked open her eyes and sent me a tired smile, only to frown at my arm. “What...?”

  I looked down at whatever had caught her attention, shocked to see a patch of gauze taped to me. When I lifted my hand to the area, a familiar sting told me exactly what had happened.

  “Ah...fuck.” Fisting my hand and setting it against my pounding head, I cursed a little more before admitting, “I think I got another goddamn drunk tattoo.” I sent Caroline a weary cringe. “It never turns out well when I get a drunk tattoo.” The last time I’d gotten a football championship tattoo with Gam, we’d lost the game the next day.

  I scurried out of the shower and went to the mirror to ease the bandage off my bicep. The word inked into my skin appeared backwards in the reflection, but I could still tell exactly what it said. As my mouth fell open with shock, Caroline called, “What is it?”

  I just kept staring, not sure what to say. “Uh...it’s, um...”

  “You didn’t get anything girly, like a heart, or rose, or butterfly, did you?”

  “No...” I blinked at the tattoo. “It’s...actually a word.”

  “Well, what does it say?”

  “Nothing,” I was quick to answer. Too quick.

  “Nothing?” she repeated. “As in, it literally says the word nothing? N-O-T-H-I-N-G?”

  “Yep. It says nothing.”

  “Why would you get a tattoo that said nothing?”

  “Probably because I was stupid drunk. I don’t know. Why do we ever do anything? Why is the world round and rotates in a circle? Why does the sun come up in the morning and the moon out at night?”

  “Okay, now you sound weird.” Caroline pulled open the shower door and opened her mouth, only to stop cold when I turned to her and she saw my tattoo for herself. Her eyes widened. “That’s my name.”

  “Yeah...” I said slowly. I had her name embedded into my skin...with permanent ink.

  I constantly ragged on Pick for tattooing his woman’s name onto his skin. I told him it was bad ju-ju. He’d end up losing her somehow—she’d leave, she’d die, she’d get dragged away by flying monkeys—and then he’d just be stuck with a bittersweet reminder of what he no longer had. And yet, here I was, copying the son of a bitch. He’d never let me live this down.

  I cracked my eyes open and caught Caroline studying it quietly.

  “What?” I asked.

  She shook her head before she smiled. “It could be worse. You could’ve gotten falling-down drunk and slept with some other girl, but instead, you thought of me, and got my name branded on you.”

  I sighed. Yeah, I guess it could’ve been worse. But I still felt sick with worry, because seriously, it was never good luck when I got a drunk tattoo. Though I was a little thrilled by seeing her name stamped in my skin, and even more thrilled to see how much it pleased her, I also remained as uneasy as hell, because fuck, what if this piece of bad luck ended up making me lose her?

  I still wasn’t too pleased by the time we finished cleaning up and limped our way down to breakfast. Wearing a dark set of shades and leaning a little against Caroline to keep me upright—while she leaned back for the very same reason—I pointed as soon as I spotted Ham.

  “You, you motherfucker. What the hell happened last night?” I lifted my hands as I stood over him. He glanced up from his breakfast, and I arched my eyebrows. “You let me get a fucking tattoo?”

  I knew he had to have been sober the entire night. Not only was he not much of a drinker to begin with, but since his woman couldn’t drink a lot after her kidney donation, he’d follow the same path for her.

  He just smiled and shook his head. “If you knew everything I kept you from doing last night, you’d realize the tattoo was actually very minor.”

  “Oh God.” I slumped into a chair and cradled my head in my hands. “What else did I do?”

  If he told me I tried to pick up some other chick, I’d puke. It wouldn’t be so hard—I already felt like I might. When Caroline sat next to me and touched my back, I set my hand on her leg, bracing for the worst.

  Hamilton and Blondie glanced at each other before they shook their heads and smiled. “Man, you two definitely know how to have a good time,” was all he said.

  But I needed a little more information than that. “What?” I demanded. “What did we do that could possibly be worse than a tattoo?”

  “Where should we start?” Hamilton chuckled. “First I had to keep you from beating the tar out of some guy who was looking at Caroline. I guess you learned that he’d offered to buy her a drink earlier in the day, and...” He whistled under his breath and shook his head. “After I pulled you away from him, you made a big spectacle of telling everyone we passed that she was your woman. I swear, people in Nevada, and Oregon and Arizona heard the announcement that Caroline was with you.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly. I could handle telling a bunch of drunk strangers that Caroline was mine. “Is that all?”

  “Not even close.” Zwinn exchanged another amused glance amongst themselves. “There was a point in there you decided you were going to tell Noel about...” He motioned between Caroline and me. “You know.”

  I glanced at Caroline. She was wearing sunglasses too, so I couldn’t see her eyes, but she did cover her mouth with her hand, obviously horrified.

  “Shit.” I glanced at Ham. “Please tell me you stopped that?”

  He nodded. “Of course. I confiscated both of your phones and kept them for the rest of the night. Here.” He motioned to where they currently sat on the table and nudged them our way.

  “Whew.” I blew out a breath and reached for Caroline’s hand. “Well, thank you for stopping that.” The worst thing I could’ve done was tell Gamble over the phone I was with his sister while I was drunk and had her halfway across the country.

  Ham nodded. “And that wasn’t even the best part.”

  “Oh God,” I moaned. “What else?”

  “Well...we came across this wedding party further down the beach. I guess there’s one of those twenty-four-hour insta-wedding chapel things nearby. They accept walk-ins and will even marry you right on the beach.”

  I frowned and scratched my still-aching head. “I thought they only had those things in Las Vegas.”

  Blondie giggled, so I scowled at her. “What?”

  “That’s exactly what you said last night,” she informed me. “When you were completely wasted.”

  “And right before you decided you wanted to marry Caroline,” Ham added.

  Caroline leaned forward. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I tried to get married?” I repeated, lifting my eyebrows incredulously. “Last night?”


  Zwinn nodded, and burst out laughing.

  “But you stopped us, right?” When they nodded again, both Caroline and I let out similar relieved breaths. “Well, shit. Okay, I can see why you settled for letting me get a tattoo after that.”

  “Actually.” Ham rolled up his own shirtsleeve to reveal the word Zoey scrawled on his bicep. “The tattoo was my idea. You’re the one who copied me.”

  I shook my head. Wow. Apparently, I’d been a busy little boy.

  “You designed this for me at the tattoo parlor,” Ham went on proudly as he gazed adoringly at his own ink before grinning at Blondie.

  “Wait.” I waved my hand. “I was blind-ass drunk, and you still let me design a tattoo you’re going to have on your skin for the rest of your life? Man, that’s whack.”

  Quinn just shrugged. “It came out good, so I didn’t have a problem with it.”

  I turned to Caroline and shook my head.

  After a second of staring back, a slow grin spread across her face. “I think this is the best trip I’ve ever been on.”

  Once we returned to Illinois and I had to give Caroline back to her brother, I think I went through a fucking mini-depression or something. I still drove over most every night to pick her up at our spot and got to see her damn near every day, and talked to her constantly via text, but it just wasn’t the same.

  At Lake Tahoe, I hadn’t had to hide her, hadn’t needed to sneak. I’d been able to keep her all night long and wake up the next morning beside her. Fuck, according to Ham, I’d been able to claim my feelings for her loud enough in public that people three states away could hear.

  But here...fuck, here it was still a secret. And I hated that. Caroline Gamble was not my secret. She was my heart and soul, and I just couldn’t do this shit much longer.

  I’d been trying to wait until she broached the subject and made it her idea, so she didn’t feel anxious or scared when we finally told him, but I just...I couldn’t hold out much longer.

  Besides, other things were forcing me to make decisions sooner than I expected.