Heirly Ever After by Vernon, Magan (best classic novels .TXT) 📕

a parking lot until we broke up and I’d steal his keys, telling him to take an Uber home. Of course, the next day he’d have forgotten all about it and asked me to make him hangover breakfast.

But this…there was something distinctly different about this.

“Boyfriend, you need to sober up.”

“So ye do like me calling you my girlfriend? That’s cute. We’re cute.”

“How much did you have to drink?”

“Pft, not that much. The Webleys actually do know their good scotch.”

Once we got to our room, I pushed the door open and walked toward the couch, trying to push Jacob down onto the warm leather but ending up tumbling with him, our limbs and legs in a tangle. I tried to unwind us, but instead we laid chest to chest, the heat of his body pressing into mine and warming me to my very center.

His smile slowly faded as his eyes went from glassy to hooded. His hand pushed back a strand of my hair behind my ear, his fingertips lingering near my neck, sending a shiver all the way through me.

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the heavy beating of my heart. “We’re not going to do this again, Jacob.”

“Do what?” he whispered, his head bending toward my neck, his breath tickling the bare skin above my shirt.

Heat pooled between my legs, and I tried to ignore the pressure of his length against me.

“You know.”

“No, I don’t. Tell me.” His lips brushed against my skin, and a soft sigh escaped my mouth. His chest heaved against mine, and it took everything I had to sit still and not push myself closer to him.

Instead, I pressed both of my hands against the couch and then untangled myself from his limbs before standing. “I need to shower, and I’m not having this conversation when you’re drunk.”

Or ever.

He leaned back against the sofa, his head lolling against the armrest. “I’ll give ye that one, but you know we will end up talking. Or not talking. Or both.”

I shook my head, ducking it as I quickly shut the room door. “Take a little nap.”

“Already done,” he mumbled.

I stared at him; he was peaceful with his eyes closed, a serene smile on his face.

Dammit.

Why did he have to be cute?

Why did he have to be sweet?

Why did he have to reject me?

This push and pull was getting old, and I had to not only protect my own heart, but my sister’s as well. I refused to do anything that could ruin her wedding, and Jacob was suspect.

He was here for a reason, and I was going to get it out of him.

Maybe now that his tongue was loose from alcohol was the time to ask.

Slowly, I sank back down to the couch. “Jacob?”

“Hmmm?”

“So I did a little bit of research on your family…”

“Ah, the MacWebleys. Odd duck, as the fine English Webleys like to think of us. Quack, quack.” His eyes stayed closed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

It wouldn’t be long before he fell asleep and maybe he wouldn’t remember this conversation.

“What are you really doing here, Jacob? Is it because of money? Is that why you got drunk with Hugh?”

“You wouldn’t understand. I can’t hurt you or your family,” he muttered, so garbled I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right.

“Hurt me and my family?” I leaned in closer. “Jacob, what are you talking about?”

“It’s all gonna work out. Maybe,” he mumbled.

“What will? Jacob? Jacob?” I shook at his shoulder, hoping to rouse him for at least another half response. But he was already out, his chest now rising and falling in a steady beat.

Dammit.

Maybe that was the most I’d ever get out of him, but I had to hope there was another way to understand it.

At least he didn’t want to hurt me.

But would he?

My stomach twitched. Of course he would.

I needed to protect myself in all of this.

So I stood up and headed to the bathroom, letting him sleep off his morning scotch.

I’d try and put everything he’d said to the back of my mind as just a drunken stupor. But no matter how hard I tried, I’d never get him or his words out of my head. So it was time to do some investigating of my own if he wasn’t going to answer.

…

A few times I put my hand over Jacob’s face to make sure he was breathing. He was still passed out on the couch after I’d showered and dressed. Still there when I came back from lunch. And as night started to fall, I figured it was probably time I woke him up.

“Jacob, Jacob,” I called, shaking his shoulders.

He moaned slightly, shaking his body to the side.

“Come on, you’ve been sleeping all day. You at least need to shower before dinner.”

He squinted, stretching out his arms. “Dinner? What about lunch?”

“You slept through that.”

His eyes sprang open. “What? Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”

I rolled my eyes as he sat up, and I moved to the other side of the couch. “I tried, but you were pretty out of it.”

He shook his head, running his hand through his hair then down his face. “Shite, that scotch was stronger than I thought.”

His gaze trailed toward mine. Even with sleepy eyes, the brilliant green color of them locked me in place. “I didn’t do or say anything strange, did I?”

“Well, you did announce to everyone we were boyfriend and girlfriend. Which feels like something a middle school boy would do then proudly wear the girl’s scrunchie?”

He wrinkled his nose. “First off, I’m not sure what a scrunchie is and why a boy would wear it, and secondly, I don’t think I would call it announcing.”

I raised my eyebrows. “So you do remember? Then you also remember taking my scrunchie and wearing it on your wrist proudly?”

He glanced down at his hands and jerked in surprise at the scrunchie around his wrist. I couldn’t help the bubble of giggles that erupted from my mouth. “I put it there while