She scoffs, shifting her weight between each leg before looking down at me.
“You’ve never cared about my feelings before,” she shrugs, and the tone of her voice makes it sound like she’s challenging me. As if caring about her feelings is a new thing and I have some ulterior motive.
Standing, I step in toward her, and she takes a small step back. I didn’t mean to get all up in her space, but now that I’m here, I don’t want to back away. So instead, I take a step closer and her back hits the wall.
Lainey’s breathing picks up slightly, and it’s a bit shaky. I’m not sure if it’s from the closeness of our bodies or the amount of alcohol she’s consumed.
“Yeah well, some things change, Barkley,” I say quietly, bringing my face closer to her ear and neck. Lainey stiffens, and I can feel her pulse start to race. She’s nervous, and she never gets nervous. I love that I can make her feel this way.“Nothing can change that much,” she says breathily. I chuckle lowly before looking her directly in the eyes. She doesn’t know how wrong she is.
Weeks ago, I wasn’t planning on acting on my desire for her, but now, I’m ready to throw all inhibition out the fucking window to taste her again.
“You’d be surprised.”
Her blue-grey eyes search mine as if she’s trying to figure out what I could possibly mean. I wonder how she’d feel if I told her what I’ve been thinking about her recently. I wonder how she’d react if I tried to kiss her again, this time not as a distraction.
Every fiber of my being wants to try it to see what would happen, and the thought of it alone is making me harden in my slacks. If Lainey can feel it, she doesn’t show it.
“I… I have to lie down. My head is spinning,” she tells me, and I want to ask her if it’s because she’s so consumed with thoughts of me fucking her, but I know it’s most likely from drinking all night.
“Okay, I’ll walk you up,” I say, and before she can refuse me, I back away from her, taking her hand and pulling her with me toward the elevator.
When the elevator doors open, Lainey stumbles in and leans her back against the wall, her eyes closing.
She looks breathtaking, and if she were mine, I’d take her right here in this elevator. God, the things I’d do to her, with her, for her.
The doors open on the third floor, and I follow Lainey down the hallway to the room she’s staying in. She rummages through the tiny purse she holds and fumbles with the keycard, somehow managing to unlock the door and walk inside.
I follow, not really knowing if I should stay to make sure she’s okay or leave and give her privacy.
The room is dim, the curtains drawn, and the air thick with the scent of perfume and alcohol. Lainey collapses onto the mattress, her body limp, her eyes half-closed. The blue dress she wears rides up slightly, showing off her long, tan legs.
My dick twitches and I wish more than anything that she wasn’t drunk, and she would admit to herself that she’s attracted to me.
I should go. I should really, really get out of here. But as I begin to back away, Lainey turns over, her dress moving just far enough off her shoulder that the pink of her taut nipple pokes out.
Fuck. Fuckkkk. God fucking damnit. Get out of here, Holland. Abort mission.
Lainey groans, opening her eyes and watching me as I stand there, trying not stare at her fucking nipple.
“Holland?” she says softly. Clearing my throat, I nod.
“Yeah, Lainey Bug?”
“My parents are in Italy,” she tells me, and the reason for her being upset becomes abundantly clear.
Her parents, whom she hasn’t seen in probably six or more months, who she barely speaks to, are in the same country she’s in right now.
“Shit. How do you know?” I ask, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly.
“My mother called. She said she’d meant to call for a while, but she got busy,” Lainey explains.
Too busy for her own daughter? That’s what I want to say, but I’m sure Lainey’s already thinking that, and I don’t want to make her feel worse, so instead I say, “Does she know you’re here?”
Lainey nods, her face falling into a deeper frown.
“Yeah, she knows. I told her about Gwen’s wedding and asked if they’d want to grab lunch while I’m here. She gave me some excuse about them being ‘super busy’ and that was it. She told me to have fun and then hung up. She barely acknowledged the fact that I was here. I haven’t spoken to them in months, and she didn’t even ask about my life or what I’ve been up to,” she sits up, wobbling a bit, but continues her story.
“Why doesn’t she care about me? Why don’t my own parents want anything to do with me? What is so wrong with me that they can’t even spare a few hours to see their own daughter?” she asks, tears welling in her eyes.
