Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol #1) Read Online Fiona Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Blame it on the Alcohol Series by Fiona Cole
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
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“Oh my god.” The least intelligible words, but all I could manage to mutter in my drunken shock as I tried to imagine what he saw. As I was unable to not imagine what he suggested: me dancing for him.

“I taught her all she knows,” Raelynn chimed in, pulling me from the image.

“How did you find us?” I asked.

He glanced over my shoulder, and I followed his gaze to a wincing Nova.

“You little tattletale,” Raelynn scolded with a tiny shove.

Nova, completely unrepentant, rolled her eyes. “It’s for your own good. You sure as shit weren’t giving up your driver’s phone number, and I know Vera’s passcode. It was the only way to stop us all from vomiting in some back alley with a homeless man who would ask us if we wanted to live in his box.”

“That was one time,” Raelynn defended.

I snorted, vaguely remembering that night. It’d been fun. At least until that moment. I wasn’t sure which had been scarier, the homeless man threatening to keep us in his alley forever or Austin storming down the street and taking us home in the chilliest silence ever.

“One of many,” Nova said.

“Nova’s never going to forgive you for that,” I managed to get out through my drunken giggles.

If I remembered correctly, Nova had been his favorite.

“Fine,” Raelynn caved. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin like a princess who knew she was wrong but wouldn’t admit it. A princess with ample cleavage perfectly displayed in her low V-neck.

I fully expected Nico to be staring at her chest—hell, I was. Instead, I found him looking at me, his smile gone and a look of cautious curiosity, like he was doing a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out but couldn’t wait to see it all together.

“Silver lining is that Vera gets to deal with the man picking her up this time, and I kind of like that he overheard her admit she wants to fuck him.”

“Raelynn fucking Vos.”

Now it was my turn to glare, Nova’s turn to laugh, and Raelynn’s turn to shrug unrepentantly. We made a hell of a group.

“I love you, bitches,” Nova announced, hopping down off the stool. She wrapped an arm around us both and smacked a kiss to our cheeks. “Now, let’s get the hell out of here. Nico can only take his eyes off Vera when he’s watching us banter. Seriously, it’s like watching a cat watch a tennis game. Hilarious,” she announced.

I snorted a laugh and blushed. Had Nico been watching only me? I forced myself to look at the girls, afraid to find a denial if I gave the comment too much attention.

Raelynn smacked Nova’s ass and returned the kiss. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Sure am.” She turned us to face Nico. “Where to, sir?”

He took us in. Two overly drunk girls hanging on a slightly less drunk girl. He lingered on me, and I held my breath, waiting for him to deny Nova’s accusation. Instead, he shook his head, huffing a laugh. “I’ve got my car with the valet, and my driver is around the corner. I figured I’d take Vera home, and you two could go with Xavier.”

With a nod, Nova led us past him to the door. More cheek kisses, ass slaps, and hugs commenced before Nova finally managed to pull Raelynn into the backseat, leaving me to collapse into Nico’s car.

The buttery soft leather and heated seats cradled my heavy body. I wanted to stay awake. I wanted to see if he’d say anything else about what he overheard. I wanted to watch his profile in the flash of the city lights shining through the windows as we drove past. Instead, the hum of the engine lulled me to sleep.

I jerked awake when two strong arms slipped under my back and thighs and hefted me against an even warmer chest.

“Shit,” I slurred. “I can walk.”

He didn’t bother responding. Especially when, despite my objections to being carried, I still wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head on his shoulder.

Everywhere he touched, I burned like fire. It spread from his fingers, digging into my ribs, up my chest, and down to my core. I followed the path of the heat through my limbs, becoming both more relaxed and tense with need all at once.

The world swayed when he stepped from the elevator and walked down the dimly lit hallway to our front door.

Our.

Maybe it was the seven shots of tequila or earlier champagne with dinner, but somewhere through the night, calling his home our home settled a broken, floating piece about our upcoming marriage.

“Can you stand?”

“Yup.”

He shook his head when I popped my p, but I caught his smile before he turned to unlock the door.

He held the door open, and I stumbled through, heading down the hall to our bedroom. He followed behind, picking up my carelessly dropped items. My shoes. My purse. My sash. My tiara.


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