“Sure.” I hiccup, which causes me to giggle.
His deep chuckle makes my stomach flutter.
With his arm wrapped around my waist, he leads me away from the bar and down a hallway. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good to have the side of my body plastered against his. He’s tall, warm, and feels oh so hard.
We stop by a door with a picture of the outline of a woman. “I’ll be here when you get done.”
I grin. “Okay.” I lean against the door and my eyes widen in shock when it begins moving. For the third time tonight, Brady catches me. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” I hold my hand up and push it against his chest. “Be right back.”
I watch my feet as I go to one of the stalls. I accidentally push the door open too hard and it slams against the wall. Movement off to my left has my head turning to find a woman at the sink. Her head is turned my way as she dries her hands with a paper towel.
“Oops,” I say with a laugh.
After I’ve finished my business in the stall, I leave it and go to the sink. As I wash my hands, I look at myself in the mirror. I’ve got two reflections, which for some reason, makes me laugh. I’m definitely drunk, and the good thing is, I don’t even care that Asshole Robert cheated on me. He can have all the girls he wants, so long as he stays the hell away from me.
I almost forget that Brady is waiting on me when I come out of the bathroom door. He’s leaning against the opposite wall, my purse dangling from his hand. I didn’t even realize I forgot it at the bar until now.
“You good?” he asks, moving away from the wall and stepping so close I smell his cologne.
“Yup,” I chirp. “I’m great.” I lean close and breathe in deep. “You smell really good.”
His brow arches. “Thanks?” He poses his reply like a question. “I think it’s time we get you home.”
I shake my head. “Nope. Not going home tonight.”
“And where are you going?”
“To the motel I booked for the night.”
“You booked a motel?”
My head feels heavy when I jerk it up and down. “Uh huh. I didn’t want to worry about getting home after I was drunk, so….” I grin.
With a shake of his head, he puts an arm around my waist and moves us forward. “Then it’s time I take you to your room. I think you’ve had enough alcohol for the night.”
I pout, even though he can’t see it. “Fine, party pooper.”
When we walk outside, the cool night air clears my head a little. I look around, spotting my car. I’m confused for a moment when I’m led away from it, but then I remember Brady is with me and he’s driving me to my motel because I’m too drunk to drive myself. He’s such a gentleman.
We stop on the passenger side of a black Lexus. As he unlocks the door and pulls it open, I use the excuse of being unsteady on my feet to lean against him, but it’s secretly because I just want to.
“In you go,” he says, grabbing my waist and turning my ass toward the seat.
Once I’m sitting, he reaches over me to snap my seatbelt. I’m not ashamed to admit, I may have leaned toward his head and taken a whiff of his hair. It smells just as good as the rest of him.
Closing the door, I watch him walk around the front to his side. I rub my legs back and forth when a sudden ache forms between them.
Get your shit together, Camila. This man is married. He’s the last guy you should be lusting over. Especially when he has a wife like Addison.
I mentally pout because I hate that my voice of reason is correct. The little devil on my shoulder says it doesn’t matter, but I shove her off. I will not be that woman.
As he slides behind the wheel, I cross my arms over my chest to hide my perky nipples.
“Where to?”
“The Baymont,” I tell him.
The ten minute ride is made in silence, something I’m both grateful for and hate. Hearing his deep voice doesn’t help my plight, but it also leaves my mind open to wonder what it would feel like if he were to touch me in places he shouldn’t. Or what his body looks like under his clothes. If he would taste as good as he smells; all things I do not need to be wondering.