“Out with—” Wait a second. Who was he to question me? “It’s none of your business, I don’t question you, and you’ve been out every night since you got here.” The air was suddenly too warm, stifling. I pulled my coat off and tossed it on the counter next to him.
He folded his arms over his bare chest, his heated gaze sweeping over my short denim skirt, sleeveless, black, ribbed top, and the black wedges I wore. “Who, Logan?”
Flipping my hair away from my neck, I yanked open the fridge door and moaned in pleasure at the shock of icy air rushing over me. A growl reached me from behind.
“Ugh, you’re so crabby! I’m sorry I woke you, okay? Go, sleep. I’m going to bed. I just want a drink first. I’m so tired…”
“You’re drunk,” he retorted.
“Am not,” I grumbled. I got an ice-cold soda from the fridge, cracked the tab then faced him. A little of the booze cleared from my head, thanks to the cold air, but heck, I still felt a little unsteady, so I held onto the open door. Relenting, I finally answered his earlier question. “I was with Charli. We cleaned out her cheating boyfriend’s stash of really expensive tequila.” I grinned. “Then we had a bonfire.”
He went utterly still. “Charlie. A girl named Charlie?”
“Yep, Charlotte. My bestie. She finally ditched that dirt-bag.” I sipped my soda and bit back a moan of pleasure when the fizzy, sweet liquid hit my parched throat.
The tension lines around his sexy mouth eased, and damn, the tattoos all over his body were so hot.
“How many?”
I barely heard him, my gaze roaming over each piece of ink, especially his webbed one tangled with the demonic ram leading to his right nipple. I wanted to trace the entire artistry with my tongue right to his piercings then lick and suck the tiny nubs.
“Logan.” A stifled groan escaped him and he grabbed me by my upper arms. “How. Many. Drinks?”
“Huh?” I blinked and met his taut gaze. “Oh, the entire bottle.”
“And along with that?”
“Oh…” I thought back. “Hmm, we started off with a pitcher of margaritas, then Charli made the call, and yeah, the slanky answered, so we finished the Patrón. Then we burned all his clothes. That was fun.” I drank more soda.
“I’m sure it was.” Shaking his head, Max set me aside and crossed to the cupboard. He retrieved the bottle of Advil and handed me two. “Trust me, in the morning, you’ll be grateful you took these.”
Ignoring the pills in his hand, my mind in a whirl, I gently touched his piercing.
He went motionless. But I was too caught up in what I was doing to notice his reaction.
“Did it hurt?” I ran my fingertip over the barbell and the tiny male nipple pebbled.
“A little.”
“Then, why?”
“Why not?”
I blinked like an owl at his terse response, looked up at him, then gave in to the impulse and lightly caressed the tight lines of his bristly jaw. His lips tightened. Something dark flared in his green depths. He grasped my hand and pulled them off him. “Take the damn pills, Logan,” he said, tone gruff now.
“Okay, okay. You’re worse than Ray.” I swallowed the things with my soda, dropped the can down, and swayed. “Whoa!” I grabbed the counter so I didn’t faceplant.
Wonderfully strong arms swept me off my feet. “You’re wasted.”
“Am not,” I mumbled. Eyes closed, I nuzzled my face against his neck. “Mmm, you smell so gooood…you always do.”
A rough exhale escaped him as he climbed the stairs. Moments later, he settled me on the bed in my darkened room. I grasped his arm. “Kiss me, Max.”
Our kiss in my kitchen that wasn’t quite a kiss haunted me.
“You have no idea how much I want that, and I’ll probably want to kick my ass once I’m downstairs that I didn’t, but when I kiss you again, Logan, I want you sober and aware. I want it all.”
Why must he say all those things? Why did he have to be a nice guynowwhen I wanted to forget—forget how hard and lonely the past two years were, or what cheaters men are. I shut my eyes and pretended to sleep.
