Page 36 of Cruel King

“Cora put me in charge of watching Margaret. I am shockingly soberer than I was.”

“Why do I doubt that?” he asked.

“Oh, I was. I almost considered singing.”

Gavin snorted. “I bet. Why would Cora leave?”

“Cora said something about being a downer because she was the only one who cared about Margaret and Locke.”

“Ah,” he said. “Cor has always been the most sensitive.”

He reached the bed and gently set me onto my feet. When he pulled the covers back, I was on the right side. He’d been lying on the left side even though we’d fought over the right earlier. Something contracted in my chest at the gesture. Something that I definitely did not want to look at.

“There,” he said.

“Thanks.” I flopped back on the bed even though I was still in the dress I’d worn to the party. The hem that had crept up nearly to my hips along the way.

Gavin’s eyes went to my legs. He stiffened slightly as his gaze ran over my body. I bent one knee and turned toward him invitingly. I was drunk, but I wasn’t stupid. Gavin King wanted me in that moment, and I wanted him. Maybe I was drunk enough forthat.

Then, he cleared his throat and turned away. “I’ll find you something to sleep in.”

I blinked at his back in surprise. Wow. I hadn’t thought it was possible for Gavin to walk away like that.

He came back a minute later with one of his T-shirts and a pair of shorts. “I couldn’t find anything in your stuff. Just wear this.”

I took it from him, starting to lift the hem of my dress. He coughed and hastily turned around. I smirked. Well, this was unexpected.

The dress came off in one swift movement. I threw it past Gavin and into my pile of clothes. I drew Gavin’s oversize shirt onto my figure. I was so short that it nearly hit my knees. The shorts were useless with a T-shirt this large.

“Done?” Gavin asked.

“Yep.”

He turned around to find me still clutching the shorts. A Cheshire cat smile crossed his face. “You look good in my shirt, pixie.”

I laughed and threw the shorts at him. “Don’t make fun of my height.”

“I’d never,” he said solemnly before hoisting me back up into his arms.

I yelped again at the manhandling. But damn, I couldn’t deny that I liked it.

Our lips were inches apart as he gently deposited me down onto the bed. I arched into him, my body going supple and wanton. My head might be spinning and limbs all fuzzy, but my core knew exactly what it wanted. All I had to do was lean forward and claim those lips for my own.

With one arm under my bare legs and the other under my back, Gavin hesitated over top of me. As if the same thoughts were flitting through his mind. The same desire coursing through his body.

Everything hinged on that second in time. The whole world slowed on its axis as our breaths mingled for the first time in years and our hearts beat as one again. A hitched sigh escaped my lips as I waited with bated breath for the instant when everything changed and we tipped over the edge.

The moment I saw him again, I’d known that this hadn’t gone away. That moving to California hadn’t changed the desire that clung to him like a wet coat. I’d thought we’d evaded it all these weeks. That maybe this friendship thing was actually viable.

Pour a little alcohol in me, and I was as hot as a firework and just as likely to explode if he set me off.

But Gavin removed his arms and stepped around me.

I made a noise of protest.

I heard his chuckling as he walked around the bed and slipped under the sheets. “Go to sleep, pixie.”

“But …”

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