I smirk at the pathetic attempt and set the bottle on the coffee table, well out of reach.
Rowan crooks his finger at me with a lazy grin. “C’mere.”
I lean closer to hear him better, and he takes the opportunity to grab my shirt and yank me down. I land on his lap with a surprised laugh. This is not at all how I thought tonight was going to go.
His hands immediately slide along my thigh, bold and uncoordinated. “Have you always been this… s-sexy?”
I stare at him for a heartbeat, then can’t help the stupid grin that spreads across my face. Even drunk, the compliment lands somewhere deep and warm in my chest.
“You can tell me again when you’re sober,” I murmur.
Rowan laughs, the sound loose and sloppy. “I’m not druunkk!”
I raise an eyebrow at the way he stretches the word out dramatically.
He presses a finger to my lips. “Shhhhh.”
I try to stand, but he wraps both arms around my waist like a stubborn octopus, holding me in place. Okay… what on earth is happening right now? I know it’s the alcohol, but I still never expected this reaction from him.
“Let go,” I say, voice low and deep.
Rowan tenses for a second, then slowly leans back, grinning up at me with a bright, flushed smile. “Yessir.”
My eyes widen. He’s…flirting… blushing, biting his lower lip, looking far too pleased with himself.
I clear my throat and finally manage to sit down properly on the couch, reaching for the takeout bag.
Rowan immediately scoots right up against my side like a heat-seeking missile. “What you got there, handsome?” he asks, voice still slurred but full of curious delight.
I laugh again, shaking my head. I know he’s either going to forget all of this tomorrow or regret every word, but right now I’m enjoying it more than I probably should. Still, I remind myself he’s not in his right mind.
I pull out the grilled chicken sandwich and curly fries I got specifically for him and set them on the coffee table in front of him.
Rowan looks at the food, then at me, and actually pouts, a soft, genuine little pout. “Aww, you got me food?”
I nod. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”
“You c-care ‘bout me,” he says, almost wonderingly.
I roll my eyes, but I’m grinning. “Obviously, idiot.”
Rowan’s face lights up with a wide, drunken smile. “Thank you, baby.”
I freeze mid-reach for my own burger.Baby. The word hits me like a spark straight to the chest. My mind blanks for a second.
Rowan doesn’t seem to notice my reaction. He’s already leaning forward and taking a massive bite of the sandwich, moaning loudly around the food at how good it tastes.
I slowly pick up my cheeseburger and take a bite, trying to shake off the strange warmth the pet name left behind. I grab the remote and unmute the TV, switching off whatever trashy realityshow he had on and putting on something mindless and familiar instead, easy to watch.
Baby… he didn’t mean it, he’s drunk. But some dark, possessive part of me is quietly satisfied as I glance sideways at him. Rowan gestures at the curly fries with his mouth full and gives me an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
I laugh quietly and shake my head.Christ.
…
It’s late now, the city lights outside the windows are glowing softly against the dark sky. I had to put some space between us. Rowan has been incredibly touchy all evening… hands on my thigh, fingers brushing my arm, leaning into me every chance he got. I can’t think straight… but,God, I like it too much. The warmth of his body, the easy affection in his drunken state… it’s addictive. But I know he isn’t thinking clearly, and the last thing I want is to take advantage of him while he’s this far gone.
I’m leaning against the kitchen sink, slowly drinking a glass of cold water, trying to collect my thoughts, when I hear the TV click off. A groggy moan follows, then the soft padding of bare feet across the hardwood floor.
