"That's what they all say." I clink the bottle of Everclear to his sake jug and grin. "Cheers."
"Uh, sure," he says, tipping his own bottle up and taking a pull from the damn thing.
I watch his throat work for far too long to be comfortable, but since he's not paying attention, he doesn't catch me. Instead, he reaches over and snags the remote from my hand, turning on some kind of historical drama with a couple on the preview.
We get exactly two minutes in before I start asking questions.
"So he's a prince from a faraway land, but he's working as a bodyguard for the princess of his enemy's kingdom."
He nods, taking another sip from his bottle with a grin. "Yeah, pretty much."
I inch closer to him, rolling halfway over as I reach for the bottle of rum, popping the lid as I abandon the paint-thinner-esque alcohol for something sweeter. "And she's aware of who he is, and his goal, which is to kill her and take revenge for his brother, who didn't actually die, but they allthinkhe did."
"Correct." Kai lists to the side, grinning stupidly as he pokes me in the forehead with a single finger. "You're following pretty good."
"The subtitles you turned on help." I lean back and drink the last of the rum, hiccuping in the process. It reminds me that I'm not as young as I used to be, and it also reminds me that Idohave a limit. A limit that I'm pretty close to now. And I'm not interested in spending half the morning hunched over Kai's toilet in suffering. "I should stop while I'm ahead."
"Yeah," he groans, wincing as he jerks his head to the side to look at me. "I think I might be drunk." Another hiccup, and he looks at the clock with a lopsided grin that makes him look less like the domineering Kai I know from everyday interactions and work, and more like a boyish version of himself still untainted by life and unjaded by the cruelties of it. "Like, I might bedrunkdrunk."
"Well then," I say with a huff, shoving him sideways onto the rug with a giggle, "lay down and watch some TV with me. We'll sober up and do it again."
"Sounds terrible. I'm in," he says with a grin, pulling me over onto his chest with a grunt of effort. "Now maybe you can tell me what I missed when I went to the bathroom."
I nod and snuggle into his chest, even though it's wrong. Even though I know I shouldn't. Even though I know it'll never happen again and I'll regret it when I sober up.
"Okay, so the princess invited the undercover prince out for drinks, intending to confront him about his plan and stab him,but he was saved last minute by the king calling him to escort him to another kingdom . . . "
His arm falls around me as I talk, and it feels so domestic, so right, that even though I know better, I indulge the fantasies, just for a minute.
I'll deal with the fallout later.Maybe.
Or maybe not.
chapter twenty
Kai
The fuckingasshole who turned on the sun deserves to have his head put on a spike in the afterlife. And maybe have someone fuck the eyeholes while they're at it, every day, with the world's biggest, ugliest member.
Dramatic? Yes. But also true. And with the way my head pounds when I shift to try and run away from the sunlight streaming through the wall of windows on the far side of the room, I can't hide from it.
Not that I can move in general, considering there's something laying on me. Or someone.
Last night is hazy; I remember bringing Reese home, remember not keeping it up for her, remember her leaving in a huff?—
Denali.
Denali was here, she ran into Reese, she—she brought booze and got wasted with me on the living room rug.
I force myself to open one eye, though the pain that shoots through my head is insane, and peer down at the weight on my chest. Sure enough, it's Denali, in that tiny little cocktail dress from last night, and nothing else. I catch sight of her heels,discarded at our feet, but that's not what does me in and sends a bullet of longing straight through my heart.
No, what does it is the way her head rests on my chest, right against my heart, one hand splayed out over the middle of my sternum as she breathes slow and deep, her lips just slightly parted, breath fanning over my bare chest. I have no idea where her other hand is pinned, and I'm afraid to find out. One of her legs is hiked over one of mine, and the way that makes her little bodycon number hikes damn near to her hip is arousing. I have to take a deep breath, or I'll be in worse shape when she wakes up than I've ever been in front of a woman in my life.
I'm down bad for her. I can't ignore it now. If my reaction wasn't clue enough, then the way my arm bands around her back and shoulder, fingers curled over the soft skin they lay atop, the way my whole body flushes every time her lips brush my skin, the way my dick is damn near ready to jump out of my pants at the mere sight of a fully clothed woman lying against me, all make it unavoidable.
I've gotta tell her.
I can't keep this a secret. It'll only hurt the both of us, the longer I go without revealing how I feel. What I want. What I suspect webothwant. But it's a tenuous process. She's my fuckingemployee,for crying out loud. And I dunno what her moral standing is, but even if I'm willing to set this ship aflame and go down with it to the depths of the ocean, she might not be. She's not well-off. This job, her livelihood, it's all she has. She needs it. And I doubt offering to pay her bills would go over well with a woman as independent as she is.
