Jessa James - Dr. Hottie

“Jeremy?”

“Yeah. How did you know that?”

“You said his name earlier.”

“Oh, right. Well, we started dating, and I’d always had a crush on him since I was fifteen. He paid zero attention to me in high school, so when he hit on me… I don’t know. I thought it was another reason to stay.”

“And now?”

“Now he’s with Shannon. And they’re rubbing it in my face, even if they don’t mean to. I don’t know. Maybe it was a mistake to stay so long.”

“Well, there’s good news.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m completely comfortable with you using me to make him jealous.”

“You are?” she asked with a laugh. “You seem pretty confident.”

“I don’t want to come off as arrogant, but trust me, Addy. I know what I look like. And I’m willing to use it.”

“Wow,” she said. “Better watch that humility. Don’t want you getting low self-esteem.”

He laughed. “It’s just the truth. It’s luck, genetics, whatever you want to call it. You should know how it is.”

She bit her lip and looked into the depths of her beer like it held the answers.

“Besides,” he continued, “you’re way too pretty to be so concerned with him anyway.”

She looked up at him. God, he really is gorgeous.

“What about you? Where’s your family?”

He smiled. “Well, my mum is in Melbourne, sitting on the board of various charities. No doubt, plotting my marriage to some Australian princess who will be blonde and perky and easy for my mother to control.”

“Whoa. That’s… unexpected.”

“If you were thinking that I’m an adult who has total autonomy over my own life, you’d be right. But you also wouldn’t be my mother.” He sipped his beer and looked away, but Addy saw a flash of bitterness in his expression. “God knows what she’s going to do when there are grandchildren in the equation.”

“I’m glad that you ended up here instead of Melbourne. And that you’re single.”

He lifted his brows. “Thanks.”

Addy flung her hand over her mouth. “The tequila is talking, more than I am.”

He laughed, reached over and tucked her hair behind her ear. “For what it’s worth, anyone who dumped you is a total jerk.”

“Cheers to that,” she said, and lifted her beer.

Somehow, another pitcher of beer arrived, but Addy hardly noticed. She was pressed against Jack’s side as he showed her funny videos from med school. She showed him her Instagram, flipping faster past old photos that showed her and Jeremy embracing or kissing.

“I think your ex is going bald,” he told her, pointing out several photos where it was beginning to be obvious.

“Fireworks!” someone yelled above the din. “The fireworks are starting.”

En masse, the bar began to rush outside and bottleneck at the entrance. She felt Jack’s hand on her hip as he steadied her. The blast of cool evening air shot across her face when they made it outside and she breathed in the Tahoe air.

“Over here,” he said, and led her to an isolated spot beneath a staggeringly tall tree.

He wrapped his arm around her as the lights exploded in the dark. The crackle, the explosions, the excitement of the night—it all came to a head in her as she looked up at him. His eyes slid toward her mouth and she braced for a kiss, but something stopped her.

“Hey. What if… what if we pretend to date?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Just listen. I’m trying to make my ex jealous, you have your mom breathing down your neck about settling down with someone…”

He looked at her face, scanning it for something. She felt like her honesty was being gaged, more than anything.

“Just try it out! You know. We’ll see—”

Jack leaned down and kissed her, sure and strong. God, he tastes good.

As he began to pull away, she fluttered her eyes open. Jeremy stared at her from the corner of his eye. He looked nonplussed, even with Shannon’s arm wrapped around his waist.

Well, good!

“How’d I do?” Jack asked. “Think he’s mad?”

“You want another drink?” she asked with a smile.

“Sure.”

She led the way into the bar with Jack’s hand in her grasp.

“Another round of tequila!” she called. The bar was almost empty as the rest of the revelers stayed outside for the show.

“You got a ride home, Add?” the bartender asked.

It was the last thing she remembered.

Jack squinted against the bright morning light. It poured into the room and lit up the unfamiliar bed. The strange sheets that smelled of vanilla.

Shit. It wasn’t the first time this had happened.

For him, there was a fine line between really tipsy and drinking so much that he didn’t remember.

You’d think after thirty years of life—and fifteen years of drinking—you’d figure it out.

His head roared. It wasn’t the first time he’d been blackout drunk, but it was the first time in a couple of years.

He shifted under the duvet and realized he was at least wearing boxers. But nothing else. Jack glanced around the room, mostly white with a distressed vintage dresser in the corner. The back of a propped-open laptop revealed a yoga sticker and outline of California.

At least I’m still in Tahoe City, he thought.

But something seemed off. The entire room glistened like a gem. It took him a moment to realize it was glitter, all over the place. By some miracle, he recognized his phone on the bedside table.

Please don’t be dead, he thought. There was fifteen percent battery and a string of angry texts from an unknown number. As he rolled away, he jumped at the sight of the half-dressed girl beside him.

Addison. Addy. It all came back to him in a rush, like being smacked in the face by a wave of memories.

He remembered being at the bar. He remembered talking and flirting with Addison, that it soon crossed the line into taking shots and full on hitting on her. But that didn’t explain what they were doing here , or where here was. He looked her over for clues.

She was sprawled out on her back, her head turned to the side and her long hair covering her face. One pale pink nipple had slipped out the top of her bra. He felt himself harden at the sight of her full breasts. These were curves he didn’t remember.

But he pushed the thought aside and pulled the blanket up to cover her. She didn’t budge, and her breathing remained deep and heavy.

Jack pushed himself up, shaded his eyes, and looked around the room. Where the hell were they? He’d thought it was her bedroom, but upon closer inspection he realized by the frosting-pink décor it was more like a hotel. They were surrounded by several empty bottles of champagne.

That explains why I’m so goddamned hungover.

Jack lurched from the bed and staggered to the bathroom. As he leaned his hand against the wall over the toilet and started to relieve himself, he glanced down and nearly pissed all over the place. On his left hand was a shiny titanium ring.

Jack pulled it off and started to inspect it.

“Oh, no,” he said. “No, no, Jesus, no.” He raced back into the bedroom and reached under the covers for Addison’s hand.

She groaned into the room. “What are you doing?” she asked, still half-asleep.

“Wake up, I need to see your hand.”

“What’s wrong with my hand?” she asked groggily. “No, it’s my head that hurts—”

“We have bigger things to worry about.” He finally found her hand and felt the cool metal on her ring finger. His heart dropped into his stomach.

“What is this?” he asked, and held her hand up to her face.