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and I caught a glimpse of a wide-open empty washroom. Unfortunately the sign on the door said “Men”.
    My bladder tightened and I thought fuck it, I’m going in.
    I opened the door and found I was alone. How unfair was that? There was a row of urinals and four stalls all unoccupied while us women had to suffer in line for half that peeing space.
    I kicked open the door on the first stall and shuddered. It was a big nope and I let it fall shut again. By door number four I was starting to understand why women didn’t use men’s washrooms. Men were even dirtier than we were.
    Stall four was clean though, and once I lined the toilet seat with a roll of toilet paper, I sat down and found sweet relief.
    I heard the door open and close a couple times and counted the number so I could sneak out undetected.
    Finally the last man left and I was once again alone. I finished up, pulled my dress down and swung the door open to get out as quickly as possible.
    I stepped out towards the sinks and ran into the rudest man I knew. Caleb Harder.
    “Fancy meeting you here,” he said with a lopsided smile that sent my insides into a flurry of confused activity. “Brooke, wasn’t it?”
    Caleb Harder, hot hot hot Caleb Harder was being nice to me. It was difficult to hate him when he was being nice. And hot.
    “I need to wash my hands,” I said and stepped around him towards the sinks. I washed up and looked back to where he was standing there staring at me.
    “Listen,” he said, “I feel bad about what an asshole I’ve been. I would apologize but I can’t say I’ll be any different when I haven’t been drinking.”
    I felt my stomach lurch when I tried to reply and I realized I really had been drinking way too much. I hunched over the sink and gripped the edge of the counter like it was keeping me from falling over.
    It probably was.
    “Hey, did you hear me?” he asked and stepped towards me. “Are you okay?”
    I nodded and worked furiously to keep the vomit down in my stomach where it belonged. It wasn’t helping that my nerves were shot around Caleb and my pulse was fluttering a million miles a minute with him right behind me.
    Finally my stomach settled and I stood straighter.
    “Do you need a ride or something?” he asked gently and put his hand on my lower back to comfort me.
    I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror, under these lights I looked old and tired and out of my element, especially with somebody like Caleb standing right next to me.
    I opened my mouth to tell him I was fine, but instead I hurked and burped and vomited on his shoes.
    And they were really nice shoes.

Chapter 6
    A s soon as my vomit hit Caleb’s shoes I felt like I was going to pass out from humiliation. I gripped the edge of the counter and hurked again, but nothing came out.
    “Brooke, shit, are you okay?” he asked and rubbed my back. Heat from his hand radiated out along my spine and I wondered how he knew my name. I’d never been formally introduced to him but Virginia had mentioned it once. In my fog of drunkenness I was flattered.
    “I’m good,” I blurted and closed my eyes to stop the spinning and concentrate on his huge, warm hand touching me. He dipped from my shoulder blades to my lower back, passing over the border of my dress to my bare flesh.
    I shivered every time he touched my skin with his, but I’m sure being that drunk it came off as more of a shudder.
    “You don’t look good,” he said and I heard the door open behind him. “It’s occupied, asshole, go take a piss outside,” he growled at whoever was coming in.
    “Sorry,” the unknown man said, then chuckled deeply and added, “good for you, dude.”
    “What a prick,” Caleb muttered under his breath. “Listen, splash some cold water on your face and we’ll go find Addison. She can get you home.”
    I complied and dipped close to the tap, splashed myself and took the rough paper towel he handed me to dry my face. “Thanks,” I said, taking a