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Her eyes narrow and she smacks my chest, clutching at my T-shirt. It might be the one she put on the other day that I pulled off her to fuck her skin on skin. Though, now I’m thinking it, I’m liking the idea of her naked and me mostly dressed. The slight power play of that.
I like the idea of her any which way.
“I’m not drunk.”
Laughing, I keep her in my arms and pull her in, closing the door and pushing her up against it. Fuck, I’m getting hard. But I push that away.
If she’s gonna be drunk or part of the way there, I want it to be when I’m on that journey with her, not me sober and taking her when she’s doing some booze-fueled bravery thing.
“Yeah, you are, Princess. Just enough. C’mon.”
She looks at me with melting eyes as I step back, and that look catches me behind the heart.
“I want you, I told you that,” I say, “but we can talk tomorrow, okay?”
“Because I pushed you away earlier?”
“Yes. No. All of the above. Fuck, Sidney, you know I want you, but I’m not taking advantage of you.”
“You’re not. I was scared, am scared. You’re nothing like I’ve met, like no one I’ve ever been with. You’re so much more. And after my mother’s message . . .”
Cartoon light bulbs pop into life in my head. Things fall into place, but I don’t say anything about it. I’ll ask her tomorrow, after she’s slept it off.
“I think there’s a compliment in there,” I say, half smiling. “I’ll set you up in my room, get you a change of clothes.”
I lead her down the hall to my room, where I’d been reading.
“Did you hear me, Mack?”
Nodding, I cross to my closet, pull out a shirt and a pair of work out shorts, and hand them to her. “I’ll get you some water.”
I don’t give her a chance to respond, just head to the kitchen and grab the jug of water I keep in there. Flipping it open, I pour a large glass for her.
Then I lean on the counter.
Breathe in.
Of course, it was a compliment more than she even knows because it was completely terrible. She managed to insult me while doing it and that means everything. More than it should.
Because it was honest and heartfelt, and something that shines.
She’s fucking mine, I think. At least she is while she’s here, and when she goes, when I deem it safe for her to do so, I guess we’ll see where we’re at.
Maybe it’ll have burned out or maybe it will be hotter than before. Maybe it will work or not. I don’t fucking know. I’m just living through it, seeing what happens. If she could let go of her fears and pry off her mother’s fingers as well as the layers of doubt that have been ingrained into her, she’d allow herself to fly.
I think she’s already spectacular.
What the fuck is she going to be if she does that?
Unstoppable.
Right, I’m ready to go leave the water for her. Maybe she’s fallen asleep. If the gods are smiling, then she will have, and I can take the sofa or guestroom and try to ignore my blue fucking balls.
Righteousness sucks.
I straighten, turn, and I almost drop the glass. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“It’s early, Mack, and you have a magazine on vintage cars. Not exactly prime reading material for me.”
