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Waiting for last call felt like it took hours, and by the time Alex is finally done wiping down the bar, and the other bartender and waitresses have left, I can barely keep my eyes open.
“Ready?” he asks, coming out from behind the bar.
Yawning, I slide off the stool and slip my arms into my jacket, all the while fighting to stay awake. I’m usually asleep hours ago, and sitting around waiting for Alex didn’t help the matter.
And I’m still drunk.
He studies my face for a moment and then sighs. “You’re exhausted and still drunk.”
“Yeah, so?”
“I can’t take you on my bike, then.”
“Why?” I ask around another yawn, pulling my hair around my shoulder. I just want to go home and sleep.
“Because I don’t want you falling off.”
“Well, I want to go home. I’m tired and want a bed.”
“I know, come on.” Nodding towards the door, he places a large hand on my lower back and leads me outside. I can feel his touch through my jacket and shirt, his heat like a flame – singeing me, and wishing I could feel just a little more of it without getting burned.
Guiding me around The Rusty Anchor’s building, I pull my jacket tighter. Seeing my little movement, Alex steps even closer to me. So close, I can feel the warmth rolling off of him, sending a chill through me, and I tighten my grip on my jacket further, stopping myself from doing anything stupid. Like touching him.
Sober Melanie is level headed and thinks before acting and speaking. But drunk Melanie has a loose tongue. That version of myself has gotten me into some trouble before, but I always had my friends with me to keep me in check.
Now, though, it’s just me and Alex.
Me, and the sexiest man alive.
I want to kiss him, lick him, and feel every inch of him on top of me. I just want him to do what he said at Ally’s wedding while he held me close. I want him to make me fall apart.
The grass turns to gravel, and because I’m too busy dreaming of him naked to watch where I’m going, my ankle rolls to the side. But Alex is right there, and wraps his arm around my waist to steady me before I fall.
“Where are we going?” I ask, trying to distract myself.
He doesn’t answer me, though, and instead, just leads me towards a set of wooden stairs.
“Alex?”
“I live up there.” He nods to the door at the top of the stairs, and I stop short, my back colliding with his front.
Oh, sweet muscles. I didn’t realize how close we were.
“What?”
“My apartment is above the bar.”
“I’m not sleeping with you, Alex.”
“Relax, Mel. How much of an asshole do you think I am? You’re drunk and tired, and you want to sleep. I can’t take you home yet, so you can sleep it off in my apartment.”
“Oh. Uh…” I look around the empty, dark, back of the bar, but there’s nothing other than a Harley and an old Ford pickup parked about twenty feet away from us. “I can try calling Ally or Ashley,” I say softly, my voice giving away my nerves.
“Mel, just walk up the stairs. I promise nothing is going to happen. I can always just carry you,” he says sarcastically.
“No,” I sigh, but secretly wish he would. I really just want to feel his arms around me again.
Taking the stairs slowly, I grip the railing tightly, trying to focus on not swaying.
