Page 14

“I know,” she says. “I’m tired. I’m just going to relax.”

Before I know what she’s doing, she’s resting her head on my lap and looking up at me.

“You look handsome, Brett.”

“Thank you.” I want to tell her she looks beautiful, but I don’t want to encourage her.

“You can ignore me. I’m not really flirting with you. I’m, you know …” She yawns. “I’m doing what I do.”

“Don’t worry, Rosie,” I say.

She closes her eyes, and before I know what’s happened, she’s sleeping. I brush her hair back from her face and stare at her. She’s exhausted and trusting, and she deserves a good man.

I wait for Dalton to text me back, but I don’t hear from him. I know we can’t stay like this forever. I know she needs to be in a bed, and I know I can’t be there with her.

I lift her up carefully and carry her to my bedroom. I debate taking her dress off and immediately decide against it. I don’t want her to wake up in her underwear and wonder what happened. Instead, I place her on the bed, pull down the duvet, pull off her sandals, and then cover her. She grabs the pillow and turns onto her side, continuing to sleep.

I head to the door, and I turn back around and stare at her. She’s the first woman who’s ever slept in this bed, and somehow, it feels right. Somehow, it feels special. I close the door gently and head to the couch and sit down.

It’s going to be hard for me to sleep tonight. Rosie has awakened emotions in me that I didn’t even know existed, and yet there’s nothing I can do about them. I need to focus on my life as it is, and I need to help Rosie find a man who has all the qualities she’s looking for so that she can stop flirting with me. The longer she continues to be her sweet, sassy, sexy self, the harder it’s going to be for me to stay away from her.

Chapter Three

ROSIE

My head is pounding before I even open my eyes, and I groan as I stretch in the bed. As I open my eyes slowly, I freeze. I have no idea where I am. The room doesn’t look familiar, and the gray sheets I’m lying in are very different from the floral white and pink that I have at home.

I sit up abruptly, and I’m pleasantly surprised that I still have my dress on. Then it all comes flooding back to me. The way I flirted with Brett, when he took me home, and, oh yeah, how I’d left my keys with Izzy. I groan out loud.

“Shit, I can’t believe I’m here,” I mutter under my breath, feeling mortified.

I don’t know what to do. I’m nervous to go into his apartment. I wonder what he’s thinking. He must think I’m an absolute hot mess. I look over to the side of the room, where I spy an oversize gray armchair. I notice my purse is there, and I hurry over and grab my phone. I pull it out and see several missed text messages from Izzy, Lucia, and Sage. I immediately send them a group text.

Mayday! Mayday! Oh my gosh, I’m in Brett’s bedroom.

Izzy messages back immediately. Did you guys have FUN last night?

I groan again as I read her words and remember that I definitely flirted at least a little bit.

No, we did not. I quickly take a selfie and send it to the group. I’m still in my dress from last night. I slept in Brett’s bed. I’m pretty sure I’m alone because he’s not here. This is so embarrassing.

Good to know he’s a perfect gentleman, Lucia types back.

Sage responds, Oh my gosh, Rosie, I hope you didn’t make a move on him.

No, I did not, I type back, vehemently annoyed that she would assume that I would make a move on Brett.

I rack my brain in case memories come flooding in that I attempted to have my wicked way with him. I groan as I remember talking about wanting an orgasm. My hand covers my red face, and I want to sink into the ground.

“Fuck. I wonder if I can climb out of the window,” I say to myself and then type it into the text message. Guys, I am so embarrassed. Do you think I can climb out of the window?

Stop being immature, Rosie, Sage types immediately. Go into the living room. Tell him thank you for being a perfect gentleman. Ask him if he can give you a ride home. If not, one of us will pick you up.

I stick my tongue out at the phone because, of course, Sage would have a perfectly reasonable way for me to get out of here, but I still feel mortified. Absolutely mortified. And I’m not even sure why. Maybe it’s because I can still remember telling him that I wanted an orgasm and maybe asking him if he wanted to dominate me.

“No, I wouldn’t have said that,” I mumble to myself, trying to remember exactly how the conversation went.

I hear a noise coming from outside the door, and I still. Fuck, does he know I’m awake? There’s a knock on the door, and I freeze, like that’s going to help anything.