A few hours later, Brett entered the dark house alone. After the boys had all gone home, he stayed at the bar for twenty minutes, because fuck, he’d needed some peace and quiet after the last few days. They all thought he was going to go home with the clingy blonde he danced with all night, and had been cracking jokes as they left.
He’d smirked and let them.
The second the door closed behind them, he let the woman know it wasn’t going to happen, and she’d moved on to another guy with nothing more than a pout.
He tripped over something on the floor because it was too dark to see. Muttering curses, he continued his way toward the staircase. After a lot of stumbles and a few bumps, he managed to make it up the stairs without tripping and killing himself, which was a miracle on its own. When he reached his door, he froze with his hand on the knob.
Had Anna gone to bed yet, or was she still watching movies and laughing with her friends? Christ, he envied her freedom and ability to express her emotions. Wished he could be more like her. If he could, then maybe he could have her as his.
Maybe then he would deserve her love.
Maybe then he’d be a good enough man.
Then again, probably not, because he didn’t want to be the guy who caused her pain or heartache. That’s why he kept his distance. Why he refused to take what she offered, knowing he couldn’t give her himself in return.
But what if he hurt her when he did that, too?
What then?
Turning on his heel, he approached her door, his heart pounding a steady rhythm. He was acting irrationally. Being stupid.
But even admitting that, he wasn’t about to turn away.
He had to see her.
Silently, he crept into her room, approaching her bed on silent feet. Breath held, he leaned over her bed, squinting into the darkness. He couldn’t see a damn thing.
Should he turn on the light?
Would that wake her up?
Of course it would.
Fucking idiot.
A sigh filled the silent room. “Is there a reason you’re in my room?”
He stiffened at the sound of her voice, and his chest tightened as his pulse soared higher than a fucking kite. “I just…wanted to…check on you.”
She flicked on the light and pinched her nose with her fingers. “Are you drunk again?”
He sat down on the edge of her bed, clutching his knees tightly. She looked so damn soft and pretty and touchable. And he really, really wanted to touch. “I wish.”
“What do you mean?”
“I barely drank anything, but if I had, then I’d have an excuse for being here.” He lifted a shoulder, his eyes on the thin strap of her nightgown, and all the soft, creamy skin it left exposed. “I’ve got none.”
She tossed her mussed hair over her shoulder, her wide eyes on him. A surge of lust slammed into his gut. “Did you have fun?”
“Not really.”
“Why not? Parties are supposed to be fun.”
His fingers twitched. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, even though I had a pretty little blonde hanging on me, offering me whatever I wanted. What the fuck does that even mean?”
She crinkled her nose adorably and reared back. “I can smell her perfume on you.”
“But don’t you see?” He touched her nose, capturing her gaze. “It doesn’t matter. She might as well have been invisible because she wasn’t you.”
Anna bit down on her lower lip and gripped his arms, her small hands clinging to him. “If you’re saying these things, you’ve gotta be drunk. Let’s get you into bed.”
She was so sure he was wasted, and he didn’t necessarily blame her. After all, he was in her room in the middle of the night, talking about shit he never usually talked about. “I’m not drunk. But if you want me to lie down…”
He started swinging his legs up to lie down, but she shoved them back down with wide eyes. “Not in my bed. Yours.” She hopped out of bed and started tugging on his hands. He didn’t budge. “God, how drunk are you, Brett?”
He smirked. “Not at all.”
“Yeah. Sure you aren’t.” She sighed, but a smile twitched her lips upward. “Now let’s go.” She tugged hard on his hand, urging him to his feet.
This time, he let her, because as much as she might think he was drunk, he wasn’t…and it was time to go back to his own room, even if he didn’t want to. For the first time in his whole damn life, he didn’t want to sleep in an empty bed.
He followed her as she led him across her room and into the hallway, and opened his bedroom door. When they reached his bed, she dropped his hand and threw back the covers. Turning to him, she placed her hands on her hips and gave him a patronizing look. “Get your clothes off and climb into bed.”