Page 27 of Make Me Laugh

He’s a stand-up comedian who sexualizes women for ticket sales!

He’s a fuckboy who sleeps with women like this all the time! This might not even have been his first lay in the last twenty-four hours.

My underwear and bra are next to each other at the end of the bed. I dress in those first, discovering my fishnets are a goner—ripped at the crotch and down the legs. I locate my socks, while daydreaming of a shower… but then remember how fucking thirsty I am.

I glance over at West sound asleep, his back rising and falling with slow inhales. A glass sits on his nightstand with enough water to hold me over until I can finish getting dressed and get the fuck out of here.

I slink to his side of the bed and pause when he mumbles, pulling a pillow over his head. My breathing stops until he stills, returning to a peaceful sleep.

I quietly snatch the glass and don’t wait, bringing the rim to my lips and taking one quick gulp.

The second the liquid passes my lips, I regret not giving it a sniff test.

Because that’s not water. It’s tequila.

I can’t stop what happens next no matter how hard I try. The same tequila I drank last night with no issues comes spraying out of my mouth… and all over West’s back.

I’m not lucky enough that he would be a really, really, really, hard sleeper, because he shoots up like someone spit water across his back.

Or tequila…

I have to swallow hard enough to force the little bit left in my mouth down, the sound of my gulp audible in the quiet room.

“Why the fuck do you have tequila in a water glass?” I groan.

I wasn’t even that drunk last night but drinking in your thirties isn’t the same anymore. A hangover is still a hangover no matter if you have two or ten drinks.

West’s hair is mused from last night, and he’s squinting against the bright morning light coming through the curtains that never got closed…

“Because you said you wanted a shot after orgasm three.” He says the words with a grogginess only sleep can give.

“I did no—yes I did.” I nod, the memory returning a few seconds behind my mouth. I asked him for it and then never took it.

He rubs his eyes with his palms, yawning. “Need me to jog any other memories?”

I put the cup down, only now realizing it’s in my hand still. “No, no. I remember. I just forgot for a second.” What with my post-six-orgasms brain and all!

“Sorry.” I bite my lip and suppress a laugh. “I was trying not to wake you.”

“You were just going to leave without saying goodbye?” He gives me a look that says, Joey, how could you? The puppy dog eyes aren’t needed, but West uses them anyway.

I shake my head, sounding sincere. “Of course n—” But the lie catches in my throat and my shoulders slouch in defeat—no sense in lying to him now. “I was going to leave without saying bye.”

I stand up straight and watch his eyes scan over my exposed skin. I see that same look of hunger he wore last night.

So, it wasn’t a figment of my imagination… Great!

“West, last night was a lot of fun.” Understatement of the century. “But I gotta go. I have⁠—”

“Big girl stuff to do? I get it.” He stretches his arms over his head, biceps flexing… veins bulging. His smile is dangerous, sliding slowly across his lips. “I mean, if you want I’m happy to give you a parting gift.” He’s staring between my legs.

“Do you not understand the concept of a one-night stand?” I ask, brows meeting in the middle.

He puffs a laugh through his nose. “Oh, no. I’m fully aware of how they work. It’s just that I usually don’t let them stay the night. It’s a cab at 5:00 a.m. for most.”

And to think, I was starting to believe I might have been wrong about him…

I exhale a quick, disappointed breath and start the search for my shirt. “Got it.”