“Truth?” I asked and she nodded. “I want in your pants. You naked in my bed is pretty much all I’ve thought about since I met you. And when I’m not thinking about you naked I’m thinking you just might be the funniest woman I’ve ever met. I think you’re comfortable being you. You say what you say and do what you want and I like that, too. But that’s not why I came tonight and that’s not where I think we should go. So, as much as I know seeing your clothes on my bedroom floor tomorrow morning is something we’d both enjoy, it wouldn’t be smart.”
“And if I wanted my clothes on your bedroom floor—smart be damned—you’d turn me down?”
“I’ll answer that after we have a few drinks and shoot a game of pool.”
What the hell was wrong with me?
Just say no.
“Testing the waters?”
“Can you blame a guy for being cautious after the bourbon debacle?”
Shiloh snorted an unladylike huff and righted her head.
Why did I find that so goddamn sexy, too?
Because she was who she was and didn’t give a single fuck what anyone thought.
“I really didn’t ask you to join me because I wanted to seduce you.”
“Didn’t think you did. And just so you know, the fact you had a tumbler of bourbon in front of you when I sat down was my first indication of that.”
“Maybe I was fortifying my courage to get you into bed?”
“Nope. You wouldn’t need alcohol to find your courage. Tell me about your day.”
“That obvious?”
“Quit stalling.”
Before she could answer the bartender was back with our Maker’s Mark. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a few bills and handed them over. “Keep it.”
“Thanks. Holla’ you need anything.”
With a lift of his chin, he was gone.
I turned to look at Shiloh, maybe make another inappropriate jab, but when I saw her staring at the drink I changed my mind and made a decision.
“Shoot it,” I told her.
“Can’t. I’m driving.”
“I’ll get you home.”
She shook her head and said, “My gear’s in my car. Can’t—”
“I’ll get you and your car home, Shiloh. Shoot it. Shoot as many as you need to. You have my word I’ll get you home safe.”
Those blue eyes were killing me. Contemplative and a little sad. Whatever was going on in her life was weighing heavy.
“Tonight we’ll play pool, and have a few drinks. I’ll listen if you wanna talk, and while we’re doing that I swear you’re totally safe to be you,” I continued then quickly added, “your pants on my bedroom floor and everything that comes with that is off the table.”
“Well, that sucks.” She winked and picked up her glass.
In two swallows it was gone and she was sputtering incoherently.
When she finally regained command of the English language—though her eyes were still wide—she licked her lips and said, “That wasn’t much better.”
A laugh burst from my chest. I threw my arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. This unfortunate lapse of judgment left me with an armful of sexy woman, one I’d declared off-limits, one that smelled like…
“Do you use Head and Shoulders?”
Her frame stiffened before it started to shake.
“Are you smelling me, creeper?”
“Hard not to when I’ve got your hair in my face.”
With a mighty shove, Shiloh pushed me away and a smile raced across her lips.
“I forgot my shower bag in my locker. I had to use Riddle’s soap and shampoo.”
“Riddle?”
“Andy Riddle. He’s on my team.”
The smile died and a contemplative look came back in her eyes.
Something is definitely weighing heavy. “Come on, let’s see how good you are at running a table.”
“Fair warning, I’m good.”
I bet she is, I thought.
I bet she’s damn good at a lot of things.
4
“Babe?”
“Wha—” I barely got the mumbled word out of my dry-as-a-desert mouth before I closed it then groaned, “I’m dying.”
“You’re not dying.”
Luke.
Awareness slowly crept in, intensifying the pounding in my head. I was in a bed. A soft, warm bed, but I didn’t open my eyes for fear the swirling in my belly would turn into something unpleasant.
“Where am I?”
“You’re in bed.”
“And you’re in my bedroom? I’m not dreaming?”
“Do you often dream of me in your room?”
Normally our flirty banter would make me smile but I was out of sorts and a little queasy.
I felt his hand on my shoulder—my t-shirt-covered shoulder—and I stayed still as it traveled up to my neck and around until he gathered my hair and held it loosely.
“You’re home safe and sound just like I promised. I have to get to work but I wanted to see if you needed anything before I took off.”
“Work? It’s morning?”
“Just after eight.”
“You spent the night.”
Duh. It was eight in the morning. Of course Luke spent the night. I was suddenly grateful I had a splitting headache and a hangover from hell. It gave me an excuse not to open my eyes. And when Luke went on, I was doubly happy I wasn’t looking at him.
“How much do you remember about last night?”
I tried to think back but the bits and pieces and flashes of me drinking and us playing pool were mostly a blur and the harder I thought the queasier my stomach got.
“Not much after our second game. But enough to remember I kicked your ass the first round and barely lost the second.”
Then I’d switched to tequila—and tequila and I were friends. I got chatty when I drank tequila. I was a happy drunk—that was, when I let myself get drunk which was normally saved for special occasions.
“Last night you said you didn’t work today.”
“Is it still Wednesday?”
“Yeah, babe, it’s still Wednesday.”
“Then no, I don’t work today.”
A full day off, which was awesome because I didn’t think it was possible to get out of bed.
“Good. There’s water, OJ, toast, and Tylenol on your nightstand. When you can open your eyes, drink the water, eat the toast, and wash the Tylenol down with the OJ. I’ll be back around later and I’ll bring dinner.”
“Don’t say dinner, or toast, or water. As a matter of fact, no more talking at all. My head is going to explode.”
“Okay, babe. No more talking. See you later.” And with that, the bed shifted and a moment later Luke’s lips brushed my forehead. “Sleep.”
Apparently, Luke had superpowers because my body obeyed and I didn’t hear him leave.
Hours later I woke up no less hungover but I no longer felt like I was going to vomit.
But the room was still spinning.
Or maybe it was my life that was spinning out of control and now I was feeling the physical manifestation of months’ worth of denial.