[2]

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.

My eyes were beginning to hurt, and standing barefoot on the grass was doing wonders to the soles of my feet. My vision swayed again, his head splitting into two images for a brief second. I shook my head and continued to stare.

"What did you want to forget?"

The moment those words left my lips, I regretted them. His attention snapped to me so fast. It was a wonder how he hadn't gotten whiplash. But just as soon as the regret had come, it dissipated when he smiled. I shivered.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He lifted a brow. "What's your name?"

"Camsy," I offered in a breath. "Camsy Colbert."

He hummed like he was testing the name on his tongue. "Camsy." His eyes lit up slightly, lips stretching into a dashing smile. "I like it."

Half of me wanted to remind him that you didn't get to like or dislike someone's name. You just had to know it and accept it. I shoved that half aside because his smile-and maybe the alcohol-had left me unable to stir arguments. I leaned toward him so that I could see more of his features. His lashes looked longer, and some strands of hair were sticking up because the sweat on his forehead had dried.

"What's yours?" I asked.

"Parker."

"Parker," I repeated, my lips forming a drunken pout. "You don't look like a Parker."

He chuckled. I grinned. Parker's laugh was low, like his voice, and sounded like music, the kind you could dance to. Slowly.

"How are you even able to speak? You nearly downed the entire bottle."

If only he knew how much of a lightweight I was and how I would regret this soon.

"Well," I began with my grin in full swing. "Let's just say I have been in this business longer than you have, Parker."

"That means you have something to forget too, doesn't it?" He was smiling, but his tone sounded serious. And it had a hint of pity in it.

My smile fell. "What makes you think so?"

"First, the bottle in your hand. Second, you almost drove home drunk," he said flatly.

I sighed and leaned away, beginning to move towards the driver's door of my car. So, Parker was a mind reader, and denial wasn't working. I might as well tell him my sob story.

His voice stopped me just as I placed my hand on the handle. "What are you doing?"

"If I'm going to tell you what I want to forget, I'm not saying it out here." Another breeze went by, causing me to squint. "It's cold out."

"I thought you said you weren't-"

"That was before. I'm cold now, so get in if you want an answer." I motioned towards the car with my head.

Parker considered it. He probably didn't trust me any more than I trusted him, but hey, that was a good thing. At least now I knew he wasn't some psycho.

He advanced toward me.

"What are you doing?" I asked him with a cautious tone as he came to a stop a few inches from me.

"I'm not letting you sit in the driver's seat." Before I could protest, he shut me up by speaking again. "You could decide to start the car."

That made sense. "Fair enough." I shrugged, opening the driver's door for him to step in and going through the passenger's door.

"You first," Parker said once we were seated and the doors were locked, both windows raised.

I tried not to think about the fact that I was locked inside a vehicle-drunk-with a handsome stranger, but my frazzled mind wouldn't have it.

I lifted my feet off the car floor and sat in a crisscross position, facing him. The bottle of vodka lay on the dash before us.

"My boyfriend cheated on me," I blurted out. Parker's look remained blank for the first couple of seconds before he scoffed:

"What a coincidence," he replied flatly, a sad chuckle following.

"Huh?"

"My girlfriend cheated on me as well."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

The next few seconds were silent, but the air was thick. I was the first to break it.

"How'd you find out?" I asked, looking up at him from beneath my lashes.

Parker laughed, but it wasn't the song-like laughter I'd heard. This one felt empty. Hollow. Broken.

"We'd been dating for quite a while now-three years to be exact. Tonight, I was supposed to propose." Oh dear, I thought, watching him tense, the air around us shifting. "I'd gone to work, then straight to the store after. I got the best diamond ring they had-oh! I have it here."

He searched his left trouser pocket for a while, emerging with an exhale of victory when he found what he was looking for.

The golden ring band had engraved patterns designed with little diamonds that looked like bits of ice. And right in the center was the largest diamond on the ring. It was beautiful.

He tossed it over to the dashboard.

My eyes didn't leave it. Not as it soared through the air and certainly not when it landed with a clink, catching a ray of light and glistening in the darkness of the SUV.

Parker was not just rich. He had to be effing rich to be able to afford that. I wondered what woman would leave a man who was this handsome and successful right at the peak of their relationship.

Wow, this was worse than my story.

"What happened?" I asked, finally removing my stare from the ring to meet his. By now, the glint in his eye had gone, leaving a shadow behind. I felt myself lean closer to him.

"I went back to the hotel, excited that it was finally happening, that I had found the one." His tone darkened, eyes downcast. "My heart shattered when I saw her screwing the manager in our room."

I did not see that one coming.

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. When he'd said she'd cheated, I'd expected something less... heartless.

I understood, but I could only imagine the pain he was going through. Now I knew why I'd felt the need to listen to him in the first place.

Unconsciously, my hand went to his jaw, and I lifted his chin for his gaze to meet mine. The sadness in his momentarily knocked all the air out of my lungs.

"I'm sorry," I said breathlessly.

His eyes gathered moisture. "I thought she loved me."

There were two kinds of people in the world: people who were lucky in love and people who weren't.

Parker and I fell in the latter category, which was why we shared the same sorrow. We were equally broken, maybe not equally, but broken either way. And we understood each other.

"If it makes you feel any better, I used to feel the same way about Liam, my ex, along with all the other thirteen exes of mine."

It wasn't a joke, but it earned a small laugh from him. It was the same one I'd come to grow used to. I smiled despite myself.

When his laughter died, I was suddenly aware of how close we were to each other. And my fingers were still under his chin. Worst of all, neither of us was doing anything to fix our proximity. It seemed like the distance between us was closing by the second.

His gaze flickered down to my lips and back up, as if seeking permission. I ran my tongue over them, letting my mind go into overdrive. His scent suddenly filled my nostrils, and I could not pull away before it was too late. A second later, I was kissing Parker. Or he was kissing me.

The next, I broke it, leaving him with a shocked expression and a frown mixed into one. I leaned away, a hand to my lips which felt like they were on fire.

"We shouldn't. We just-"

"I don't care," Parker grumbled, leaning in again. My breath caught in my throat when I saw a new fire in his green eyes. "We both want this right now, and you know it."

He was right. I hated that he was right. We were drunk. Nothing good could come out of this.

But I wanted it, whatever this was. And I was too drunk to argue with him and with my subconscious. Too drunk to even think.

I leaned forward so our lips were only a few centimeters apart. "This doesn't mean anything, right?" My gaze went to his. "We're just helping each other forget."

He stared back at me, not replying at first, seemingly searching for the right words. "Let's help each other then."

His lips came crashing down on mine, and I didn't hold back. At one point, I think I'd climbed over the console and into his lap.

Because the next morning, when I woke up, I was positioned the same way in the driver's seat, clad in only my underwear.

Parker was gone.