In a world of money, fame, and all the champagne that came with it, Camsy Colbert, the famous wedding planner, was alone. But it was fine; she was totally cool with being single. Men could never hold a steady relationship anyway.
She's invited to he...
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Alcohol sucked.
The only good thing from drinking was probably the temporary lightheadedness it brought. Everything else that followed was not good. However, knowing this didn't stop me from going at the bottle of vodka like a machine.
Sure, this wasn't the first time I'd been heartbroken-neither was it the second, third, or even tenth-but that didn't make it hurt any less. And vodka wasn't making me feel better. But I wasn't going to stop anytime soon.
I had just taken another gulp, completely aware the handsome stranger beside me was watching me.
The night sky above us was a deep shade of blue-almost black-that went on to depress me. Even the twinkling stars plastered to the big span of space did little to ease the pain. Whoever said 'stars lighten up moods' must certainly not have gotten their heart broken. Repeatedly.
I wouldn't say I liked this. I hated being this pathetic even after everything I'd endured. Why was this hitting me so hard?
A shiver ran down my spine as a cold breeze passed, dusting my face and lifting some strands of my hair.
"Are you cold?" I heard the stranger ask. I faced him, sending a simple reply.
"Not really." I shrugged.
He nodded in acknowledgment and looked forward, staring at nothing in particular. Meanwhile, I was mesmerized by his features.
The edge of his jawline, slightly dry lips with the deepest cupid's bow I'd ever seen on a male. His full eyebrows were drawn together, giving me the feeling that he was far away in his thoughts. The brilliant green of his eyes had dulled.
I suddenly wanted to know what he was thinking, why he was here.
"How good is it?" he asked again.
I blinked out of my daze. "What?"
The stranger turned. With my breath catching in my throat, I struggled not to break my stare. His eyes were so brilliant.
"The alcohol," he clarified.
I was being so unladylike here, not giving the man a chance to drink away whatever sorrows he had because I wanted to drink away mine. In my defense, who could say no to free stuff?
Another breeze passed. This time, I broke eye contact with Parker to look down at my toes. After a beat, I looked at him again and asked, "What do you mean?"
"People say alcohol makes you forget your sorrows." He thrust an index finger towards the bottle in my hand, making me look down at it. "That one's not doing its job."
My eyes flickered back up to his, an almost transparent smile playing on my lips as realization gave me a smack on the face. "You're not an alcohol person?"
"This was supposed to be my first time drinking," he admitted, offering an equally transparent smile before returning to staring into space.
I studied the side of his face. Everything about this man screamed sad, and I burned to find out why.
