Kane’s POV
I wake up, groaning loudly, my head thumping as I peel my eyes open, the ceiling of my bedroom swimming into focus as the pain in my temples intensifies.
‘Tequila shots, I hate you’ I mumble, placing my arm over my eyes to block out the light that is trying to drill into my brain through my pupils. ‘No, actually, I hate Montaine, the little p.rick, for suggesting those damn shots in the first place.’
It had sounded like such a good idea at the time, the drinks were flowing, the women were all over us, everyone riding high from the win . . . now, I regret even going out in the first place.
Throwing back the covers, I force my protesting body to sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and planting them on the floor, cradling my head in my hands as the room and my sto
