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I check twice to make sure there haven’t been any deliveries for him, but there’s nothing.
Best-case scenario, I’m thinking—around four a.m.—he might order takeout to give me some excuse to go up there. Because it’d look pretty fucked up to Killian if I head into the service elevator for no reason instead of heading home where I belong.
Goddamnit, I want to see him.
This. This is why I don’t like the whole situation. Could I give a fuck what Jericho is doing right now? No.
I mean, I hope wherever she is, she’s resting or having a nice time, but I’m really wound up with not having a clue what’s going on in 1204.
The elevator doors slide open, and I look up at the clock. It’s the dead zone for comings and goings. Everyone in town who’s expected to be home is home, and no one ever leaves this late unless there’s a medical emergency. Or a new puppy, and Hakeem didn’t mention a new puppy.
I stand to see who’s coming out, and there he is in a t-shirt and sweats.
“Hey,” he says, arms braced on the elevator doors, not leaving the car to step into the lobby, but holding it open instead.
“Can I help you?” I ask.
“Can’t sleep. You coming up after work?”
“No reason to,” I say and yeah, it comes out sorta bitter.
He gives me a look like I should know him better than that. “There’ll be a reason to,” he says. “Although this should be all you need.”
He sticks out his tongue in a weirdly sexy way, then closes his mouth and gives me a soft smile. He’s drunk.
“Doesn’t look like you can handle it,” I tell him.
He pouts—also uncomfortably sexy. “I’ll try to sleep again. Promise.”
“Mmhm.”
“Jaaacckkk…”
“Was it as bad as you thought it’d be?” I can’t help it. I’m fucking dying to know what happened Tuesday night with her.
“Yes. It was. Don’t make me beg. I’m about to.”
“You better not be this drunk when I get up there.”
“I won’t be. I swear.”
I walk over, put my hand square in the middle of his chest and shove him back into the elevator. “Sober up. I’m not kidding.”
He grins up at me, all smug. “Okay, Andrew Riley. Whatever you want.”
The doors close, and I smirk. The boner I’ve got—totally understandable.
I’ve never had a secret as dirty as this.
14
OLIVIER
Sobering up is hard without cocaine. And it’s not like I have time to sleep, even though I think I probably could now that I’ve confirmed Drew is in the lobby. So, caffeine it is.
Three energy drinks later, and I might as well have snorted a few lines. My body is still sluggish, even if it’s buzzing, but my brain is moving a thousand miles a second. Time, on the other hand is dragging.
I doubt whether my watch is even working. Maybe the artificial energy radiating from my veins has messed with its inner workings. I shower for what seems like an excessively long time, painstakingly exfoliating and shaving, but once the bathroom unfogs, only twenty-three minutes has passed.
