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“What?” she asked as she stepped away. Her legs didn’t want to hold her up and I caught her again.
“That’s how you respond to my nice-titties?” she asked, and I was pretty sure she hadn’t meant titties, as nice as they were.
I couldn’t not smile then. “Barlow, you’re drunk as fuck. Do you want me to take you home?”
She grinned widely. “No! I’m having a good time for once!”
I was glad about that. The ‘for once’ had been said so off-handedly, but I knew there was a lot more behind those words.
“Are you sure?” I asked, not meaning to second-guess her, but I knew full well that drunk brains didn’t work the same as sober ones.
“Yes! Don’t make me go,” she begged and of course I wouldn’t.
“All right. Far be it for me to deny you anything you want, babe. Just ease off the alcohol, yeah?”
“You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my mum,” she grumbled.
I brushed her hair from her face and cupped her cheek. “No. I’m certainly not.”
She frowned and I wondered what she was thinking. “You were right, you know.”
She was clearly very drunk to be admitting I was right about anything. “I was right?”
She nodded. “I do like the way you look.”
Well, the feeling was definitely mutual. “What can I say? Takes one to know one, Barlow.”
“But I don’t sleep with you because you’re freaking gorgeous.”
That took me off guard, but I didn’t hate it. “You don’t?”
“No.”
“Why do you sleep with me, then?” I wasn’t sure how much I really wanted to know.
She looked into my eyes, and I felt like I’d been hit by a fucking freight train.
There was so much here, between us. I didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t the romantic or sexual stuff that got me. It was just…her and me, and us. It was like I’d found a missing piece of myself, as fucking wanky as that sounded. She was a part of me now, and I was a part of her. Who we were, undeniably linked together, for better or – I suspected – worse.
She put her hand on my chest and I didn’t miss it sat over my heart. “Because of what’s in here,” she said.
This wasn’t even dangerous territory now. This was… We couldn’t do this. I couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do this. I lay my hand over hers and told myself it didn’t belong there.
“Barlow…” My voice sounded strangled to me.
She shook her head. “No, not like that. Because you don’t expect me to be something I’m not and you’re always there for me. Plus, you are like crazy good in bed!”
Oh, well. If that was all.
I couldn’t help but laugh at her drunken enthusiasm and hold her close. “Right back at you, love.”
The next thing I know, she’s reaching up and trying to kiss me. I surprised myself when I pulled away. I hadn’t realised I had that much self-control around her anymore.
“You’re meant to be here courting Carter. Not off in the trees with me.”
She frowned full drunken fury on me. “I–”
But I never knew what, because she doubled over and retched into her hand. Her other hand then came up and I knew I’d be in trouble for laughing, but it happened anyway. There were pros to being one of the only sober ones at a party, and seeing Little Miss Popular be her perfect self in all its glory was something I was fucking glad I didn’t miss.
