“Tristan.”
Upon hearing his name, he blinked a few times. It was slow and reminded me of the sloth inZootopia.
“Tristan,” I said, firmer this time. “How did you get here?”
He blinked again, even slower, before looking at me. Poking his tongue into the corner of his mouth, he pinched one eye shut like he’d done earlier. I had a sneaky suspicion the man saw two of me.
And if he was that intoxicated, there was no way I could send him home. Which meant he was crashing at my place.
“Come on.”
With a heavy sigh, I hooked my arm around his waist and guided him toward my bedroom. That short trip turned out to be my cardio workout of the week. Because, holy moly, carting his six-foot-five muscled frame across the room with almost no help from him was even tougher than doing a seated climb with the resistance on ten.
I was completely spent by the time I finally helped him onto my bed.
Still catching my breath, I undid the laces of his boots before sliding them off his feet. He watched me. His dark gaze carefully followed every move of my hand and slide of my fingers.
It was unsettling. Especially so when that intense stare of his had my body humming and vibrating in the most delicious way possible.
Doing my best to ignore the unwelcome feelings he woke up inside of me, I helped him get his legs on the mattress.
“Get some rest, okay.”
Before I could leave, Tristan’s hand shot out, long fingers curling tight around my wrist. He tugged once, and I fell. My head hit his chest hard. But damn, the intoxicating smell of his cologne mixed with alcohol hit me harder.
I pinched my eyes shut.
Why the hell did he have to feel so warm and smell so damn good? Bastard. For a brief insane moment, I imagined staying exactly like that, tucked against his chest while the world raged war outside.
I imagined waking up with those arms holding me tight, and his breath fluttering against the back of my neck.
I imagined him trailing his fingers along my jaw and over my cheek. His touch was gentle and so achingly sof… Wait a minute.
My eyes flew open, and sure enough, it wasn’t my imagination.
“Don’t go,” he whispered. “Let me hold you.” His thumb traveled down and over my lips. “Let me kiss you.”
Every cell inside my body fired off at once. I wanted that. Wanted to be in his arms. Wanted his mouth on mine.
But not like this.
Not when he wasn’t in his right mind and could wake up regretting it, or worse, not even remembering it.
That was why, despite the heavy protest in my blood, I pushed off the bed and only stopped when I reached the door.
“We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Then without giving him another glance, I slipped out and closed the door behind me.
Chapter twenty-four
Kate
Sleep had been an elusive companion.
And not because sleeping next to a six-year-old felt a lot like being on a battlefield or inside an octagon with a seasoned MMA fighter.
Oh no, the cause of my poorly timed insomnia came in the form of the six-foot-something man occupying my bed. Or more specifically the dirty, dirty thoughts my mind conjured up about him.
