AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What?”
“I’ll follow you.” He shrugged, sounding matter-of-fact.
I chuckled nervously. “Your apartment is there, and you seem steady on your feet. You don’t need me.”
“I think I do.”
Nope, I wouldn’t let myself get suckered in by his sweet words. He wouldn’t even remember this conversation when he woke up. My ex had woken up never remembering the bruises he had given me. He’d even gone so far as to accuse me of hurting myself and making things up, so I’d recorded his drunken rage once.
Big mistake.
“Good night, Griff.”
A hand gripped the back of my shirt and halted me. “I’ll really follow you.”
“Griff,” I groaned. “Fine. I’ll walk you to your apartment, but that’s all.”
He didn’t release his hold on me, but neither did he drag me down. We entered the apartment building. A sign on the elevator announced it was out of service. I let out a heavy sigh.
He lived on the fourth floor. When I looked at him, he was staring at my ass. Heat flashed through my core.
“We have to take the stairs.” I got the words out despite the tightness in my throat. “Be careful.”
He let me go. Even in his alcohol-induced state, he seemed to realize it was dangerous to keep holding on to me while we were climbing the staircase. If I had stairs like this at home, maybe I would have built some muscle in my short legs. When we got to his floor, I was huffing. Griff didn’t seem winded in the least.
I bent over, hands clutching my knees, and wheezed.
“You okay, Scottie?” Griff asked.
I held up a hand. “Just. Need. A. Minute.”
“Or I can carry you the rest of the way.”
“Of course—hey!” Griff scooped me up in his arms and marched forward. I clutched his shoulders, and the protest died on my lips.
Oh, his muscles under my fingers.
I might have slipped my hands down lower and squeezed his biceps. Butterscotch! But he felt so good. Powerful.
Not seeming to notice my dilemma—a hard-on and a body that hadn’t felt another man’s touch in over a year—Griff stopped at a door.
“Okay, we’re here now,” I said. “You can put me down so I can go.”
“Go? Where are you going?”
“Home.”
He unlocked the door and pushed me through. Instead of home, I found myself in an untidy living room. I caught a glimpse of musical equipment in a corner and plates in the kitchen sink before he dragged me through another door. He kicked the door shut, walked me over to the bed, and let go.
“Uff.” Hitting the bed didn’t hurt, but the unexpectedness of everything knocked the breath out of me. I glanced around. Apart from the bed, a dresser, and a chair, the room was bare. Wasn’t it pathetic that a grown man wouldn’t have accumulated anything of personal and sentimental value? Yup, seventeen years in prison would do that.
The bed dipped. Griff had pitched over onto the bed on his back. He’d managed to take off one boot but still had the other on. I’d seen a drunk man often enough to know he was out. My shoulders slumped, and I let out a sigh.
Now was a good time to sneak out.
I carefully climbed off the bed and made a run for the door.
Don’t look back. Don’t look back.
