“I’m not tired. I want to drink.” He holds up the bottle of whiskey.
Fuck my life,I whine to myself.
“I can’t leave you out here drinking alone. God knows what kind of trouble you’ll get into.”
“I really hope the only thing I’m getting into tonight is you.” He grabs me again, pressing his sweaty body against mine.
“Not a snowball's chance in hell.”
“Mad at me?”
“If I say you’re lucky to still have your kneecaps, will that answer your question?”
“Ouch, yes. If I let you sit on my face, will you forgive me?”
“Ugh, Dax.” I continue to push him away. That statement would be hot if it were under any other circumstances.
“Fallon, Fallon.” He clutches my hand, smoke blowing out of his mouth from the cold. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to split. I just needed–”
“I know,” I raise my voice. “To blow off some steam.”
“Yes.” He crumples to the ground and wraps his arms around my waist.
“You’re a fucking wreck.”
“I know. This shit’s so hard.”He presses his cheek into my abdomen.
My sympathy gets the better of me. Spending most of the day with a screaming Aisling, I'm ready to drink a bottle of whiskey, too. And Declan has been taking care of her for months.By himself.I cut him some slack.
“It’s okay. I get it.” I put my hands on his face as he looks up at me.
“You do?”
“Yeah.” I wipe the blood away from his lip. He takes my hand and places a kiss on my palm. His mouth is warm, despite the temperature outside. What is it with this man? Why is he the only one who can affect me in such a way? Why can he burrow beneath my skin? And why do I like him there? “Let’s get you inside so you can stop using that terrible accent.”
“Oh, is that the only reason?”
“No, we’ll get you cleaned up and into bed.”
“By myself?” Declan asks, disappointed.
“Yup,” I confirm resolutely.
“Bummer.”
Declan stumbles inside and attempts to go into his room, but I redirect him into my room instead. “There is no way your drunk ass is going in there. We’ll switch rooms tonight, so no one wakes the beast.”
“Oh, I thought you were dragging me into your room to get me naked.”
“I am, but only for a shower. Nothing else.” I help him take his pants off, trying not to salivate over the pristine specimen of man he is.
“Shower with me.” His sexy Irish accent flows over my skin like a satin sheet.
“Not a chance.” I douse my hormones with a fire extinguisher.
“Please.” He lowers his voice to that sexy tone that does inexplicable things to me.
“No. Shower, now.” He’s completely naked, and I’m completely trying to keep it together.
