“You haven’t been eating,” I stated.
“Getting brutally dumped’ll do that to ya.”
“You need to eat, Jess.”
“I guess you’re right. I can’t afford a new wardrobe.”
We were headed for the sink so she could wash her hands, but I turned her to me. Her eyes struggled to focus on me. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that. You don’t need to lose weight. You need to eat because you need to take care of yourself. And if you won’t do it, I will.”
She gave a lazy blink. “You’re not the boss of me, Ben Miknevicius.”
I blew out a breath. “Got that right.”
* * *
Jessie fell asleep on the way home. I was a little afraid she’d puke in my car, so I had a bag at the ready. Fortunately, that didn’t happen.
I was going to have some choice words for Kitty Gatto. I told her to get Jessie loose, not to get her completely hammered.
In the parking garage, I rubbed her arm to wake her. “We’re home, baby. You ready to go to bed?”
She mumbled something. I went around to her side of the car and opened her door, unbuckling her seatbelt and helping her out. She stumbled into me. “This is so embarrassing.”
“Nah. It’s just me. I told you to cut loose tonight.”
In the elevator, she leaned against the wall, resting her head back while she gripped the handrail.
“Did you and Kitty have fun at least?”
“Yeah, and I had fun with you,” she said with a little smirk. I reached for her hand and squeezed it.
“Me too.”
She closed her eyes and slumped into me with her mouth tipped up, and I realized she was fishing for a kiss. It was just the two of us. No pretense for other people. And she was drunk. But it was what she wanted when she was drunk? But it felt gross, like I’d be taking advantage of her. I wanted her all the time. She just wanted me when she was drunk. All I wanted was her, reallywanting me, no faking.
I wanted those lips, wanted that kiss so bad, but I couldn’t do it. I had to let her down easy.
I took her chin in my hand and traced her lips with my thumb, admiring the curve of her cupid’s bow. I had kissed those lips before. As bad as I wanted to kiss her again, this wasn’t the time. So I said, “Hi, beautiful.”
She giggled, grinning up at me like a fool. “I think you’re pretty, too, Benny.”
She was so, so drunk and also so, so very cute. “Mikey, Ben, Jockey,andBenny? These are really adding up, Sweet Cheeks.”
“I think it’s cute that your mama calls you Benny,” she said.
“What’s your mama call you, Jessie Girl?” She was pressed into me, all her weight leaning on me, looking up at me with her eyes barely open and a blissed-out grin on her face.
“What do you wanna know about my mama, Jockey?”
The elevator dinged at our floor. “Come on. Let’s get your sloppy ass to bed.”
In the kitchen, she opened every cabinet. “Do you have any tuna? I’m hungry.”
I laughed at her. “Who wants tuna when they’re drunk?”
She got a snarky look on her face and put on a mocking voice. “Cole,” she dragged out his name with a sneer, “never let me eat tuna because he said it stank. But I love a tuna salad sandwich. With the toasted bread, Ben? Mmm, a delicacy.”
I couldn’t stop smiling at her. Who used the word “delicacy” when they were as drunk as she was?
