CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
WILDER
I hadevery intention of taking Maisie home.
Every intention of making sure she got safe inside, then walking back to my truck and going the fuck home.
That is, until she passed out, slumped against the window of my truck, approximately thirty seconds after I pulled out of the parking lot of the bar.
And I have no fucking idea where she lives.
She groans and cuddles deeper into the old hoodie of mine she draped across herself when I tried reaching over to wake her up, her lips parted, snoring lightly.
What I would give to be able to fall asleep so easily, without hours of tossing and turning, my head plagued with nightmares. I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night without one.
It would be easy to pop an Ambien or drink until I passed out, but I just… can’t do it.
I’ve tried.
I realized it made me no better than the piece of shit people who raised me, and that was something even I couldn’t stomach.
I glance back over at Maisie, sleeping soundly, and shake my head as I turn toward my apartment, even though it’s the last place on Earth I want to take her.
The drive isn’t far from the bar I picked her up from, and I pull into the parking lot and cut the engine.
She never stirs. Doesn’t move a muscle as I pick her up out of the truck and slam the passenger door shut with my foot.
Her head lolls, completely dead weight in my arms.
Good thing I could bench three of her with my damn eyes closed.
I manage to get the front door of my apartment unlocked and open without waking her, and truly, I don’t know whether to be impressed that she’s sleeping this damn hard or pissed that she potentially put herself in a bad situation.
I don’t even let it cross my mind, the onslaught of things that threaten to tip my fury into overdrive.
I got her, and she’s safe.
That’s all that matters.
Crossing the room to my bed, I gently lay her on the mattress and step back, my eyes moving over her sleeping frame. Her hair is splayed out around her in a soft, golden halo, that damn dress that was already too short bunched up to the very tops of her thighs.
The strapped heels on her feet match the golden hue of the dress. I carefully lift her foot, my fingers fumbling slightly with the tiny little clasp around her ankle.
“W-wilder?” Her voice has my eyes snapping up to hers. Her eyes are hazy and unfocused as she tries to sit up on her elbows, but she sways.
In an instant, I drop her foot and move up the bed, my palm curling around her shoulders to steady her.
“Oh God.” Maisie pinches her eyes shut, and her throat bobs. “Everything is spinning. I’m so dizzy.”
“Alcohol will do that to you.”
Her fingers curl around my biceps like she’s holding on for dear life.
She groans, deep and low, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t shoot straight to my cock.
“Is it too early to say that I’m never, ever drinking again? Because I’m not.”
