Page 7 of Drunk In Love
“Max!” she exclaims, giggling as we join the guests for the rest of the night.
The next morning, the sunlight streaming in the windows wakes me and my mouth is extremely dry. After several glasses of champagne that freely flowed courtesy of Ava’s sponsorship, I don’t remember what else I drank. Rookie mistake to mix liquors.
Kamaya and I were on the dance floor for hours. Every Black wedding dance from the electric to the cha-cha slide was danced last night, and now I have a pounding headache to go along with sore feet.
Speaking of feet, I look down and realize I have one shoe on and I’m still in my groomsman tuxedo. I can’t believe I fell asleep nearly fully dressed. Kamaya and I came back to her room, turned the TV on, and ordered fries with spicy aioli and a few beers from room service, and next thing it’s morning.
I look around the room. When I spot the glittery purple suitcase, I realize I’m still in Kamaya’s room.
We’re on the loveseat in the room and Kamaya shifts in her sleep when I sit up. The warmth of her body is now gone. Sometime during the night or in the flurry of all that dancing, the thin strap of her dress slid off her shoulder, offering an alluring view of the tops of her breasts.
Whoa.
The gentlemanly thing to do is to cover Kam with a blanket and return to my room. Just look away and pretend I didn’t see anything; except I don’t want to leave. Waking up with her in the quiet this morning feels…right. As if waking up together is completely normal.
I quietly stand and try picking up my discarded shoe when I hear Kam stirring behind me.
“Max?”
“Hey, go back to sleep, it’s only—” I look at my watch and see that it’s just after 7:30 and let her know. “I’m going back to my room.”
Kamaya’s eyes start drifting closed and before I think she’s fallen asleep again, she says softly, “Please stay.”
Please? Well, now I couldn’t just abandon her. Clearly, in her sleep-induced haze, she wanted me near. I grab a blanket and cover us both, rejoining her on the settee to drift back to sleep, feeling content and glad I could stay.
CHAPTER 3
Kamaya
Monday morning came entirely too quickly after the whirlwind weekend. Weddings were always nice, romantic affairs, although it always made me melancholy watching others find happiness I doubted I’d ever experience. It sucks being genuinely happy for a couple pledging to spend their lives together when you didn’t have one iota of prospects.
I was still thinking about that awkward moment waking up in Maxwell’s arms and not wanting to leave. That was strange, right? Neither of us moved away quickly enough.
We were lingering.
Almost like subconsciously we both wanted to remain in each other’s embrace.
I knew that couldn’t be right. Max and I had never crossed that line in the almost two years we’d known each other. Certainly, if you were interested in someone, it wouldn’t take that long to realize it. Men who wanted out of the friendzone wouldn’t take that long to let their feelings be known. Everyone always says after they’ve met their person, they knew right away.
No, it was the open bar and way too many tequila shots the night of Ava and Brandon’s wedding. Except Maxwell held his liquor well. I’d never seen him tipsy before and he always remained composed no matter the situation. It’s what made him a great protection agent and my most even-keeled friend.
Max and I were just friends. Besides, being like a mentor in our field, he was one of the only men I felt wholly comfortable and safe around. I couldn’t jeopardize that after one night. Max was as far from relationship material as any man could get.
Setting my stuff down at my desk, I boot up my laptop and tablet for the day. I’m the first in the office, per usual. The rising summer sunshine illuminates the large office windows overlooking midtown Manhattan.
Months before Brandon left, he’d given me a key to open the office up since I “even beat him there.” The people traffic during the weekday slowed me down too much, and I was excited to get started on this assignment.
Admittedly, I’d never taken an interest in the Financial Journal before this assignment. Markets, stocks, and finance-related news bored me to tears. Other than Zach, my interest in the publication was nonexistent. With the laptop on and ready to go, I entered my password and made my way over to the Financial Journal website.
I was provided a guest log in in the email I received from Zach, but before entering the username and password credentials, I stopped to review the paywall.
Standard as far as I could tell. An article I clicked on went blurry behind the pop-up asking me to log in before continuing. Whoever was behind the paywall leak must have somehow been able to code duplicate guest passes without duplicate log ins being detected.
The person, or persons, we were looking for was no amateur. Even I was having a tough time figuring out how they could have done it. I tried clicking past the paywall, but of course it wasn’t budging. These college students must have a supplier granting them access to the site. The IP address only provided the school where they logged in from, but who was the source?
A mole at the FJ?
What could they be gaining by doing such a thing? Technically, they were depriving the newspaper of potential business by providing access for free. The publication would lose out on thousands of revenue, since they depended on large office staffs and colleges for their site traffic.