She pressed her hands over her face and shook her head. “Oh, my God.”

I leaned back on my hands, grinning. The shame rolled off her in waves. Clearly, tequila-drunk Reagan was a little secret she was hoping to keep for a bit longer.

I, however, was fucking delighted to have discovered it.

“No more tequila. Ever.” She dropped her hands and looked at me. “Do you mind if I take a shower?”

I shook my head. “Go ahead. I need to take Poosh out for a walk anyway—do you want me to get anything while I’m out?”

“A time machine, maybe? I’d like a do-over of last night.”

“No way.”

“How did I end up in your shirt, by the way?” she asked when I stood up.

“Oh, that.” I looked down at her. “When you realized Poosh wasn’t interested in sleeping with you, you tried to talk me into having sex. I told you I really wanted to fuck you in that t-shirt, so you pulled off all your clothes and put it on. Then I told you to lie down and I’d be right back. When I came back, you were asleep. Or passed out, really.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, meeting my eyes. “Again, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry. I doubt it’ll be the last time I see you drunk.”

“Oh, I will. I’m never drinking again.”

“Yeah, okay.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN – REAGAN

Fifty Shades of Shame

I couldn’t believe I’d let myself get talked into tequila.

This was what happened when guys infiltrated girls’ night. One of the three of us got depressed and headed straight for the deadly liquor. Last night, it’d been Ava.

She had it in her head that I was going to marry Noah and have all the babies, and since Halley was marrying my brother—far more likely, if you ask me—which meant that Ava was all alone.

That was code for ‘shots.’

I grabbed a fresh bottle of water from the fridge and leaned against the kitchen island. I couldn’t believe I’d actually called Noah last night and that he’d reacted the way he had.

He just did it. Helped me and the girls home with my brother’s help. Didn’t laugh—all right, he laughed, but in an amused way. He didn’t think we were stupid or idiots, even though we were both of those things.

God, he was perfect, wasn’t he?

He was something else. We’d only ‘met’ around three weeks ago, yet I was standing here in his kitchen, thinking that I wasn’t sure there was anywhere else I’d rather be.

I just didn’t know what to do now.

Maybe it was my hangover clouding my mind. Not that it was as bad as it should have been, given the amount of tequila I’d consumed, but I was completely exhausted and definitely not thinking one hundred percent clearly.

The only thing that was clear was that I wanted to keep this man in my life.

I wasn’t sure how to go about doing that. At this point, his life was far more put together than mine was. I mean, I was back living with my parents, my insurance company was being a dick about paying out, and I was getting tequila-drunk like I was illegally drinking at a frat party.