"He'll get it out of his pants, but he'll pass out before he does anything with it," Jace said.
"He won't even find her room." Trey entered his bet and polished off his beer in three gulps. He stuck the cherry sucker he'd rescued from Brian in his mouth.
Brian shook his head. The company he kept. Sheezus!
He concentrated on walking a straight line to the elevator and, once inside, pushed the button to the sixth floor. He leaned against the wall as the car rose, his stomach settling in his boots. What was her room number again? Six something teen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Fourteen? He should have written it down. His eyes drifted closed as he thought about the feel of Myrna's breath against his ear. Her soft voice played through his head.
