Push

2. He Kissed a Girl

TOBY

I had no idea what time it was.

Hell, I'd been slumped in the corner of the bathroom for so long I wasn't even sure what year it was anymore.

I rubbed at my temple. My head ached like I'd been hit with a brick instead of having a few drinks. But if that was the worst of it, I could handle it. Anything was better than the world spinning around like a mess of socks in a washing machine again.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Toby?" A laugh edged Ian's voice. "You alive in there?"

I grunted. "Barely."

"Come on out, Cinderella. The ball's just about over."

Best news I'd heard all night.

My knees were rusty with the effort to drag my ass off the floor. Thirty was young, I suppose, but I was way too old to be hiding in my dental assistant's bathroom. I was a family man. A god-damn role model. I wasn't the guy who silently prayed that he wouldn't hurl his guts up on the fluffy white bathmat. I was usually the one hauling that dipshit home.

Ian was lounging against the wall beside the bathroom door. A grin cracked in his cheek when he saw me. The smug bastard was loving this. "I'm thinking six vodka shots might be your limit."

"I'm thinking my limit was three."

"Lightweight." He laughed. "Maybe we should stick to beers next time?"

"There won't be a next time."

I meant it. I was more than happy to hang up my party hat and go back to being Ian's designated driver.

I'd never been much of a drinker anyway. A couple of beers watching the game. Maybe a wine with dinner. The only time I ever came close to being drunk was at my sister's wedding. Way too many emotions and too much drama for me. I escaped most of my family's squabbling about the seating arrangements by setting up a residence at the open bar.

That got the tongues wagging. Good ol' reliable Toby wouldn't get shitfaced at his sister's wedding, would he?

I wouldn't—my sister would have ended me if I ruined her big day—but by the time the speeches rolled around, I was more than a little unsteady on my feet. I waved goodbye to the filter over my mouth that usually kept me safe and left it with the empty glasses on the bar.

But, can I just say, my speech was legendary.

People still laughed about it. My sister even had a quote framed and mounted with her wedding photos. My mother didn't laugh, though. She said I was an embarrassment. She probably just didn't get the jokes.

Kayleigh's party was a bit like my sister's wedding. A lot of emotions. Too much drama. I knew the vodka shots were a bad idea. Hell, scratch that. I knew the whole damn party was a bad idea. I never should have gone. But after hauling ass to finish another twelve-hour day, I had no gas left in the tank to fight off Ian and his 'great idea' of me tagging along.

It wasn't a great idea. It was an absolutely fucking terrible idea.

I'd been praying Gwen would shut the whole thing down. Who had a party on a Tuesday night? Instead, when Kayleigh called her, she was all for it. Have a great time. You need a break. Enjoy yourself. And suddenly, I was all out of excuses and trapped inside Kayleigh's apartment with a bunch of colleagues and a whole new bunch of problems.

The throbbing in my temple was still bothering me. I rubbed it with my palm as I fell in step beside Ian. "What time is it anyway?"

"Dunno? After ten?"