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“Lexy,” I call, shaking her gently. Thankfully, she’s not too cold, indicating she hasn’t been here long. Still, the possibilities of what could have happened send shivers down my spine.
Frustration bubbles within me, but getting angry at her won’t help. If anything, it will put an even bigger wedge between us. A wedge I intend to crush.
I try to rouse her with a few gentle shakes, receiving mumbled groans as a response.
I run a hand down her beautiful face.
“I wish you would talk to me, Angel. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
She mumbles something again, but I can’t make out a word she says.
“I’m going to lift you and take you back to the house. Hold on to me,” I tell her, attempting to be stern, but her vacant eyes meet mine.
“Fuck off,” she slurs, pushing against me.
Whether she likes it or not, she’s getting her ass off this beach.
I wrap my arms around her, lifting her off the sand. It was raining earlier, and her clothes are wet from the damp sand.
“No. I don’t want to go with you,” she groans, delivering a flurry of punches.
Her words are sharp, but her resistance is weak.
Ignoring her protests, I carry her back to the house and to her room.
She clings to the frame at the doorway, stopping me from carrying her any further, mumbling a string of curse words.
I’d rather she cuss me out than not talk to me at all.
“Let go,” she demands, scrambling to get out of my arms so violently that I’m afraid she’ll injure her side, so I do as she asks and set her down gently.
“I’m trying to help you.”
She slumps against the door frame, closing one eye, trying desperately to focus her drunken gaze, then shifts an unsteady finger to point at me.
“You. Yooouu. Your mouth. Don’t get open.” She slurs, shaking her head in frustration, unable to find the right words. “Don’t speak.”
“Fine. I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want. Let me help you to bed, then I’ll leave.”
“OHHH. I see why.” She hiccups. “What your.” Hiccup. “Game is. You think.” Hiccup. “You think you’re getting in these,” she laughs menacingly, tapping a hand on her leggings that she must have changed into when she went upstairs after the dinner party. “My pants are down.” She shakes her head, trying to regain her focus. “Staying up.”
My hands rise in a surrendering pose. “As much as I’d love to fuck the sass out of you right now, I prefer fucking you sober.”
She scrubs a hand over her face before attempting to walk but stumbles onto the floor on all fours, laughing like a hyena. If it were anyone else, I’d be on the floor laughing with them.
Except it isn’t just anyone. It’s Lexy. My Lexy.
The woman I’m crazy about. The woman who is spiraling in front of my eyes. The woman I’m terrified of losing.
I’m on her in an instant, lifting her into my arms, holding her flopping head firmly to my chest regardless of the pain from the blows she delivers to my chest with her pounding fists, almost dropping her when she twists my nipple.
Fuck, my girl can be vicious when she wants to be. Usually, it would turn me the fuck on, but not when she’s like this.
Her big blue eyes glisten with unshed tears when she stares up at me, sadness lurking deep within their depths before she looks away, closing her eyes tight.
I wish I could kiss all her fears away.
After peeling off her damp clothes and tucking her in, I reach for the waste paper basket and place it on the side of her bed with a towel to protect her carpet in case she becomes sick.
