Crushing on my Billionaire Best Friend - Jolie Day Page 0,54

followed me to the bar where I closed out our tab before we left. The cool night air brought a rush of relief from the sweaty, hot dance floor. Within seconds, we heard the loud shrill cackles of a group of drunk bachelorettes stumbling around and slurring their ecstatic hoots and hollers just outside the club’s exit.

Laney threw her head back in laughter, and it was contagious. And it kept us giggling and joking the entire way back to the apartment.

15

Oliver

Laney and I were still cackling up a storm as we stumbled from the elevator to the apartment door. We weren’t drunk, a bit tipsy at best (her more so than me), but we laughed so hard it made it difficult to catch our breath and walk straight.

“And then nobody said anything, and Mrs. Mulligan went through the rest of the class with that black streak across her lip!” She howled as she walked into the kitchen. “She looked like you know who!”

“The bad haircut didn’t help in that regard.” I chuckled.

Laney opened the cabinet where I kept all the booze and trailed her finger across the bottles until she landed on the Jägermeister. “Ah-ha!”

“Somebody found my secret stash,” I said. “I rarely drink that shit, but Miles likes it.” I raised a brow as she screwed off the lid and pulled out two shot glasses.

“Is it your bedtime, lightweight? By all means, you can call it a night if you want. That just means more Jäger for me. I’m not ready to sleep yet, and this bottle isn’t going to drink itself.”

“Are you challenging me?” I stepped up to the counter.

Her eyes sparked back at mine with a sly sway of her head. “Maybe I am,” she replied in a deep, enticing voice.

“Challenge accepted. Pour away.” I waved across the small tumblers.

The purple liquid trickled into the glasses, and we both threw back a shot. Her hair was wild, tossed over to one side in a disheveled look. There was an ease around her slightly parted, glossy lips, and her eyes glinted with both mischief and contentment.

“You were quite the vixen out there on the dance floor. Now you’re pouring us shots. I seemed to have stirred up your wild side,” I taunted.

“You sound so surprised.”

One strap of her torturously sexy red dress fell from her shoulder. I couldn’t resist reaching across the counter and hooking one finger beneath it to slide it back in place. Her green eyes flashed across my hand as it grazed her skin. Damn. Her skin felt soft and inviting. She liked when I touched her—I could see it in her eyes.

“Can you blame me?” I asked. “All I’ve ever seen is the Laney I’m constantly having to coax into trouble. Who knew that all this time you’re perfectly capable of getting into trouble all on your own?”

“Well, maybe Doctor Elaine Carter is a different woman.” She swiped the bottle and tumblers from the counter and breezed her way over to the couch. “Or maybe you just don’t know everything there is to know about me.”

I plopped down next to her. “Touché. Maybe we can work on that.”

“Now it sounds like you’re the one challenging me!”

“Oh, I am.” I poured two more shots. “I’m challenging you to a game of Truth. Remember how to play?”

She lit up at the prospect. “Like Truth or Dare without the dare?”

“Yep, no dares, unless you go streaking down the hallway naked. It’d get me a stern talking to from my building’s committee. I don’t need another one of those. And after everything that happened with your apartment, I don’t think your dad could handle any more stress from our late-night drunken prank calls.”

“While I do think my NYU acceptance eased his worries a little, you’re probably right,” she said with a snicker. “So, who goes first?”

“I’ll step up to bat first. Hit me with your best shot.” I tipped my glass toward her and smirked. “No pun intended.”

“Okay, okay. Let me think.” She grinned, pausing for a moment. “Oh! Okay. I got it. How many women have you slept with?”

“Oh!” I blew out a long breath and whistled. “We’ll be up all night if I start trying to calculate that one.”

“I knew it. So, it’s a lot, right? Give me a ballpark figure. Would you say more than twenty?”

“Oh, yeah.” I nodded.

“More than fifty?”

I scratched my chin and lifted my glass in the air, signaling for her to go higher.

“More than seventy-five?” she shrieked. “But less than one