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“What’s not?”
“I could have used a drink or five tonight.”
I step into her. My hand drags through her hair, and I bring her mouth to mine because fuck friends. We were never friends. I slide my tongue past her lips and straight into her mouth, forcing her to taste me. She’s still, hesitantly kissing me back with her arms more or less at her sides.
I pull back. “There. You just had a drink or five. Come on. You need rest.” I take her hand and lead her up the stairs, walking her into my bedroom and bathroom.
“What are we doing?”
“You’re sleeping in here tonight.”
Her eyes round as she watches me grab an extra toothbrush from the cabinet and hand it to her. Defiantly, she folds her arms. “Why would I do that?”
I growl, drunk and out of patience. “Either you sleep in here with me tonight or I sleep with you in your bed. Your choice, but it’s one or the other.”
She huffs. “I’m fine, Bennett. I’m feeling much better.”
I cup her jaw in my hand. I want to tell her, but I’m drunk, and she’s spooked. So I try a different tactic, softening my features and my tone. “Please? For me? For my peace of mind? I won’t be able to sleep unless I know you’re okay and I won’t know you’re okay if you’re not beside me.”
She sighs and stares down at the small space between us. “Fine. Just for tonight.”
We brush our teeth and silently enter my bedroom. She pulls off my sweatshirt and her leggings but stays in my T-shirt that hits her midthighs. It’s unbelievably sexy, and I quickly shut out the lights before she can see how hard she’s making me—clearly, tequila is not whiskey when it comes to my dick. Pulling back the covers, we both climb in, and she immediately rolls on her side, facing away from me.
I lie on my back, staring up at the vaulted ceiling, my hands on my head.
She can tell me no and I’ll stop, but for now…
I slide my arms around her and drag her back into my chest, tucking her against me. My hand goes to her lower stomach over her shirt, but I can feel she’s not relaxing. She’s too in her head. “Go to sleep, Katy,” I tell her softly. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
A few minutes later, her breathing evens out and she’s asleep in my arms. My lips plant into the back of her head and I breathe in the scent of her shampoo, begging the universe that brought us back together to give me a second chance with the girl of my dreams.
Despite the fact that I had a vat of tequila swimming through my body and I woke up with a definite hangover after a shitty night of sleep, I got up and ran four miles. It was a hellish, dragging four miles, but I did it anyway. Sweat coats my body, drips down my face and neck, and the stench of last night’s tequila emanates from my pores. I use the hem of my sports shirt to wipe at it as I enter through the back door.
Immediately, I grab a sports drink from the fridge and chug half of it down, walking through the dark and silent downstairs toward the stairs as I finish off the rest. Katy was still fast asleep when I left, her body unmoved throughout the night from its position facing away from me.
But when I enter my bedroom, I find the bed empty and made as if no one slept in it at all. I jog down the hall to find Katy’s door open, her room and bathroom empty. I grit my teeth and slip out my phone as I enter my bathroom, only to pause with my finger hovering over her name on my screen.
She taped a note to my mirror.
Woke up feeling much better. Kenna and I went swimming and then she’s giving me a ride to work since my car is still there. Don’t be mad. I’m honestly fine. I’m making enchiladas for your mom tonight and I can’t wait to tell her. XO, Katy.
I grab her note and ball it up in my fist, chucking it in the direction of the trash and missing by about a mile. Goddammit, Katy. So fucking stubborn and independent. She’s avoiding me as she works this through. I know that. I know she needs this time.
But fuck if it isn’t driving me insane.
She might not be ready for us, but I am, and with that, I need to do the right thing for her. An hour later, I’m pulling into the garage at work, but instead of going up to my floor, I get off on the fifth and walk down the long corridor. This is part of the reason I forced myself to run this morning. I too needed to think, and with that came the realization that I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of sneaking around.
“Good morning, Dr. Lawson.” Britany greets me with a warm smile.
“Good morning. Is he in?”
“He is. Just got here. I think he has a few minutes before his first surgery if you want to pop in.”
“Great. Thank you.”
I rap my knuckles on the chief of surgery’s door, and when his growly “Come in” rings through the air, I twist the knob, suck in a steady breath, and enter his office. Evan Masters is a general surgeon and is still considered one of the best in his field despite being in his late sixties. He hired me because of Wes and did so with a very specific threat that I’m about to test.
“Bennett. What brings you in here this early?”
