My Unexpected Vow: California Billionaires Book 2 by Harlow James (children's ebooks free online TXT) 📗

asses off. My body is warm from the copious amounts of tequila I’ve consumed, and a perma-smile has etched its way onto my face. I’m buzzing hard, and Hayes seems to be feeling as good as I am as we struggle to sit still and continue to sip on our drinks.

And surprisingly, I’m actually having fun with him. Although his presence sent me into a tailspin of irritation earlier, it’s kind of nice knowing someone in a sea of strangers, even if it is someone I normally would loathe the sight of.

Emma is in her own corner of the booth, making out with a guy she secured earlier this evening as Hayes and I attempt to catch our breaths.

“I was in town, checking on several clubs, and figured I’d ring in the New Year here. It’s not like Wes was going to come out tonight, anyway.” He huffs and then takes another drink of his whiskey, slinking down a bit in his seat as if he’s pouting.

“My brother is officially an old man, and about to be a married old man. You need to accept that, Hayes. You’ve lost your wingman.” I laugh, patting him on the shoulder as I sway to the beat of I Don’t Care by Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber in my seat.

“Your brother hasn’t been my wingman for years, Beaverly. Being a recovering alcoholic kind of puts a damper on the fun.”

I think back to how far my brother has come in the last six years—getting sober, taking over our grandfather’s hotel empire, and then building a facility for our half-brother after he became paralyzed from the waist down in a car accident in which Wes was driving. I was fresh out of high school when the accident happened, but I remember how he was living his life at the time—drunk more often than not, divorcing his wife he married on a whim, struggling to deal with loss and responsibility. I thank God every day that he got sober and turned his life around.

And now he has Shayla, his fiancé, and I’ve never seen him this happy and at peace.

“Yeah, I guess so. So you felt like partying tonight?”

He shrugs. “Not like I had much else to do. Why are you here?” he asks before bopping me on the nose, grinning like a fool. Mischievous Hayes is coming out to play.

I know that anyone on the outside would believe that Hayes and I hate each other when we’re sober, but the past few times we’ve been drinking around each other, I swear he’s been flirting with me. Although Hayes flirts with pretty much anything with a vagina, so I try not to read too much into it.

The last time we were in Vegas together at the beginning of November with Wes, Shayla, and Shayla’s best friend, Chloe, I was ten seconds away from pummeling his ass when he arrived. But later that night, I got the same kind of playful vibes from him that I’m getting again right now—and it’s utterly puzzling.

I sip on my margarita, opting to stick with tequila for the night so I’m not mixing liquor and really ending up sick tomorrow. My head is already swimming, but I don’t want to stop having fun. Plus, we’re less than an hour out from midnight now. No sense in quitting until it’s January 1st, right?

“Needed to get away from Los Angeles and my ex,” I admit, much to my own surprise. The last thing I would typically do is talk about my personal life with Hayes, but alcohol makes my lips loose.

“What did that douchebag do this time?” His face turns serious as I watch him try to focus more on me through his drunken haze. But my drunken state is strong too, so we both just look like we’re having a staring contest right now.

“He won’t leave me alone. Keeps begging for me to take him back. But the asshole cheated on me, and that is something I would never accept.”

“He doesn’t deserve you, Wave,” Hayes slurs as he reaches up and brushes the hair from my eyes. And his touch—it ignites something inside of me that has never burned before—a desire for him to do it again.

I felt that same rush on the dance floor earlier when his hands found my hips and rocked along with me to the music, but I brushed it off as the alcohol lowering my inhibitions. But now, having felt that twinge of arousal again, I know that it wasn’t a one-time thing.

Looks like I won’t be drinking any more tequila tonight if it’s making me want Hayes to put his hands on me.

“I know. I just wish he’d stop. Understand that there’s no chance. I hate when people won’t listen.”

He laughs while bobbing his head along to the music. “Believe me, I get that more than you know.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, trying to locate the straw of my drink with my tongue while keeping my eyes on Hayes. But apparently the task is too much for my brain to comprehend though, because Hayes starts laughing at me and then reaches up to push the straw in my mouth, his thumb brushing lightly against my lips as he withdraws his hand.

“Looked like you needed some help there, Waverly,” he teases before clearing his throat and continuing. “Well, not that I would normally share this with you, but since you revealed your woes, I’ll let you partake in mine.” He takes a deep breath and then licks his lips. “My parents sat me down a few weeks ago and asked me when I was planning on getting married.”

I choke on my drink, nearly sputtering all over Hayes’s lap. “You? Married?” My head falls back in laughter as I hear Hayes chuckle beside me.

“Why is that so funny, Beaverly?”

Fuzziness overwhelms me as I stare at him, smirking at his shock, even though he’s smiling in return. “Because it’s you, Hayes Weston! You’re the last person I