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My confusion about that didn’t last long as I realised what their absence meant in light of Piper inviting me up to her room. I couldn’t stop my mischievous smirk and suggestive eyebrows. She shook her head at me before closing the window, but I saw the smile on her face.
I met her at her back door and found her in a longish t-shirt and socks. Her hair was in a messy bun like she hadn’t been expecting to see anyone – and I guess she hadn’t. I didn’t care what she looked like. She could dress up or down, or fucking sideways, for all I cared. As long as she was comfortable and herself, I thought she was the most beautiful thing in the world.
“No funny business, mind,” she told me, still trying and failing to be the bossy one.
“No, I wouldn’t dare.” I couldn’t help but look down at her body, knowing I’d keep my hands to myself if that’s what she wanted, but it would be oh so tempting. “What is that?”
“My nightie?” she asked, looking down at herself.
“Nightie. Right.” I’d been under the impression nighties were supposed to do more than just barely cover your arse. “T-shirt not a more apt description?”
“Yeah, yeah. We know the word apt. Very clever,” she muttered.
She spread her arm and I followed it inside before she closed and locked the door behind us.
“Drink?” she asked.
“What are you offering?”
“Whatever you want that I have. Beer, wine, soft drink? Dad has some spirits somewhere?”
If there was to be no funny business, she was hardly offering me whatever I wanted that she had. But that’s what she wanted, so it was hands off and much safer to not even joke about it.
“Beer, why not,” I answered.
Following her to the fridge, I told myself I wasn’t watching the shape of her arse sway under that nightie. I wasn’t watching the way it clung to her curves and slid over her skin the way my hands were aching to do. All I wanted was to hold her close, breathe her in, and find the calm in the middle of my storm. I wanted to feel that smile against my lips as her body…
She held up a six pack of beers and I felt my eyebrow rise. How quickly did she expect us to drink them that we were taking them all with us?
She looked at me and I saw the mocking challenge in her eyes. “You telling me you can’t get through six?”
That was not where I thought that was going. “You’re going to make me drink alone?”
“Would it be the first time?”
The idea of that was laughable. “No.”
“Then, you’ll be fine.”
“Ah, but it’s more fun to drink with someone.”
“I might haveone.”
“One?”
“I guarantee if I have two, I’ll be pissed,” she said as she took my hand and pulled me upstairs. “More than that, it’s chaos.”
I kept talking, mainly to take my mind off the feeling of her hand in mine.
“Yeah, I’ve heard Hadley talk about you when you’re drunk. I’m quite looking forward to it,” I laughed.
“Oh, no! I’m not having any more than one.”
“Sure you’re not,” I teased. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You’ve apparently heard the stories about handsy, chatty Piper. I could get all lovey-dovey on your arse.”
Lovey-dovey Piper was, horrifyingly, not as scary a prospect as I’d expected it to be.
