Just One Chance (Oh Tequila Series Book 1)

By: C.A. Harms


Oh Tequila, how you have brought me to oblivion so many times before. A great stage of euphoria, leaving me feeling afloat. No troubles; you made it all seem perfect.

You helped me relax when I was tense.

You helped me get through many occasions I would have rather skipped.

You and I had an agreement. You would give me only what I needed and never would you overstay your welcome. You would not invade my life and leave me to regret your presence. You would be known only in the best kind of way.

But for the first time, Tequila, you failed me.

You left me in a terrible haze, and I can’t find my god damn wallet. Or my left shoe.

How the hell does one lose their shoe, you might ask?

My answer: I have no fucking clue.

I know at one point I was fully dressed, including two shoes, pants, and a shirt.

Well, let’s just say that now my zipper in my jeans is broken, my shirt is missing a sleeve, and I feel a slight breeze through the large hole in the left side of my boxer briefs.

And only one fucking shoe.

I have a pounding headache, Tequila, which tells me you obviously overused me. My mouth tastes like how I imagine ass would taste. And I feel sick, like really sick.

But I can’t blame only you; I have to include my brothers too.

Those fuckers insisted I let loose.

They insisted that for me to get over Britney, I needed to get under another chick. Apparently my moping ass had gotten on their nerves and it was time to relocate my balls. Their words, not mine.

My fraternity brothers are rowdy and fearless. Those dicks don’t care. They took college life to the extreme, and up until now I have managed to keep my head on straight.

That has come to an end, I’m afraid. For one night at least I lowered myself to their level.

Those assholes taunted me and pushed me until I finally gave in and just went with the flow. Drink after drink, shot after shot.

“You need a wild night to forget all about what’s her name,” they said.

“You need to relax and have a good time,” they said. “Forget all your troubles and enjoy life.”

Can I just say at this point I can’t remember shit? I’m not enjoying the after effects of my night of living it up.

You would think by now I’d listen to the voice ringing in my head, saying, “They always get into trouble. Stay clear of their chaos and destruction.”

Every single time.

But no, I went along with their plans for a night of partying, and let’s just say I am now fucked—literally.

The worst part about it is I don’t remember how I got where I am now. I have absolutely no memory of the events that took place once I arrived.

And the person staring back at me with a gleam in their eye is freaking me out. I don’t care much for their smirk, either. It gives my already rolling stomach more reasons to twist.

Chapter 1


24 hours earlier

“We drew names and Red is the sober brother for tonight’s party,” Isaac, our fraternity president, announced as he looked around the room.

All eyes were on Elijah as he sat with his arms crossed, scanning the room with a smirk on his face. He looked pretty damn pleased with the announcement.

Corbin was the first one to complain about our so-called sitter for the evening. “No way, man, last time that asshole shaved my eyebrows after I passed out in the upstairs bathroom.

“At least he didn’t pull your pants down, put a big purple dildo in your hand, and take pictures of you. Then decide to share them on social media,” Clayton, Corbin’s twin brother mumbled. Chuckles from all the brothers around the room began and Red continued to sit in the same place, still wearing the same smug grin.

The pride in Red’s eyes made it obvious he’d do it all over again if he had the chance too. There was absolutely no regret there.

The guy loved when his name was chosen. We could almost instantly see the wheels turning in his mind. Oh, the possibilities were endless.

He would rather spend every party sober if it meant he’d gain the chance to torture all of us. Elijah was rewarded the name Red because of the obvious. His hair.

Ever seen a man with a red afro? It was coarse, wild hair that he did nothing to tame.

But he’d had his share of torment handed to him too.

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