SEVENTEEN
SASHA
Iwasn’t a big drinker. I had no idea that a buzz could hit you even after you quit drinking.
I realized this the moment I stood from the cab. I was able to get into the cab just fine. By the time I got home, my vision was doubling, and I found it hard to walk straight. I’m not exactly sure how I made it inside; all I knew was that I did, and I found myself face-to-face with a very pissed off Roman. By that point, the look of anger no longer phased me. I was pretty sure that was just his face: permanent RDF, AKA resting dick face.
“Where have you been?” he asked, crossing his arms over his bare chest.
The way his muscles flexed under his skin stunned me for a moment. My mouth may have fallen open in utter shock. I had no idea that Roman was so toned, tanned… downright mouth-watering. My eyes slowly moved down his broad shoulders and flexing biceps, down his solid eight pack, and over the waistband of his gray sweatpants. When my eyes landed on the bulge there, I swore I saw movement, and that’s why my eyes leaped back to his face in time to see what looked like a smile fall away.
“What do you mean? You know where I’ve been,” I told him, pushing myself forward. As I was trying to step around him, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back.
“Do I need to remind you of the contract you signed? That was for every bit of my protection as it is for yours. You have a curfew, and I expect you to obey it. I can’t have you trying to call in sick tomorrow morning because you stayed out too late at night, getting hammered.”
I jerked my arm out of his grip at the same time he let go. It sent me stumbling backward. I gasped and closed my eyes, bracing myself for the fall, but he was quick, and he managed to wrap his arms around me and pull me to his hot chest.
He was all around me—rock-hard muscles covered in hot skin as soft as cashmere. I sucked in a breath, smelling him in a way I never had. I’d never really been close enough to smell the scent of his cologne, shampoo, or body wash. It was a mixture of leather and bourbon, a hint of smoke, and something thick and woodsy. My stomach tightened as butterflies filled the space.
“Are you alright?” His deep voice made me open my eyes, and I saw his handsome face only a few inches from mine, his dark brows furrowed in anger and his jaw set.
“I’m fine,” I told him as he put me on my feet, but I felt dizzy from my double vision and the quickness of everything that happened. My ankles felt weak, making me look like I’d never walked in heels before. I could feel his eyes on my back as I attempted to walk to my room. After only a minute of stumbling, I heard him sigh from behind me. As I was turning to look at him, he walked up behind me and scooped me up in his arms.
“You better not get sick on me or I’ll drop your ass on the floor.”
“Then put me down,” I argued, slurring my words slightly.
“Why? To watch you look like a baby deer walking for the first time? No thanks. It’ll take you all night to get to your room.”
As much as I wanted to hate the way he was manhandling me, I couldn’t. I found myself enjoying every second of being held against him: his heat, his smell, the way his muscles flexed as he carried me. It made me feel more alive than I’d ever felt.
Inside my room, he sat me on the edge of the bed, and ripped himself away before I could even let go, causing the fingernails on my left hand to leave scratch marks on my right wrist from holding on around his neck.
“What the fuck were you even out there doing tonight?” he asked, starting to pace before me. “You’re a nanny to my daughter. She’s very impressionable right now. You need to be more responsible.” He stopped pacing and came to a stop directly in front of me.
“You mean like you?” I asked, pulling my foot up to undo my shoe. “I’m coming home drunk, so I must be on the right track,” I muttered, fiddling with the tiny buckle on my shoe, unable to get my fingers to work properly.
He huffed and puffed before dropping to his knees.
“Let me do it.” His big hand grabbed my ankle, his fingers wrapping all the way around as he pulled my foot over to him. He placed my foot on his knee as he worked on the small buckle.
“Who were you with tonight?” He didn’t meet my eyes.
“My friends, not that it’s any of your business.”
“And were these friends… guys?”
I felt my brows tug together. “Of course. I can be friends with guys, you know?”
He got the buckle undone and slid my shoe off, letting it fall to the floor with a thump. “Did you fuck any of them?”
My mouth fell open as we stared into one another’s eyes. Part of me was waiting to see if he’d correct his question, but he didn’t.
“No. Women can be friends with men without fucking them,” I whispered thickly.
He grabbed my other ankle and positioned it on his knee.
“No, they can’t. Men and women aren’t supposed to be friends. If they are, it’s because one person isn’t attracted to the other. You got all dressed up and put on these ridiculous heels for something. He’s interested, I saw it not long ago. So, are you not attracted to him then?”
