For a second, I swear my heart stopped beating. “I wish I could, too, but I’m drunk, and you’re even drunker. It’s a bad idea.”
His nose moved, drawing a line from my neck up to my jaw. “I love how soft you are,” he said, and a shiver trickled down my spine. “I love you in this dress.” His hand came to rest on my ribs, just below the swell of my breast. The heat of it seared into me, warming me up from the outside in.
“Neil,” I said his name, a weak protest.
“I want to kiss you. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“You know I don’t do kissing.” My heart hammered a mile a minute as my subconscious added, but for you, I might. The realisation was startling. I honestly hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone since I was fourteen years old.
“Do you have any idea how much that kills me?” he asked, his breathing heavy against me as he finally withdrew. I couldn’t believe he just said that. Had he been thinking about kissing me? Did my preference bother him so much because he’d been wanting to kiss me as badly as he seemed to want to right now?
He lifted his head, his eyes so bright and intense I would’ve fallen over if he didn’t have me backed up against the wall. “I know I’m going to … regret saying all this in the morning.”
“Don’t. It’s nice to be wanted.”
Now his eyes practically blazed. “Want is too tame a word.”
I stared at him, just stared and stared until the annoying vibration of my phone interrupted the moment. Sarita and Mabel were obviously outside in the taxi, and I wasn’t enough of an arsehole to leave them with the meter running just to prolong this epic moment of honesty between Neil and me.
“That’s probably Sarita,” I said. “I should go.”
He didn’t move away, instead pressing even closer. “I can’t understand why I want you so much,” he murmured, and I became aware of a stiff length against my thigh.
I swallowed tightly. “One of life’s strange mysteries.”
Neil blew out a long breath. “I should let you go.”
“Yes, you should.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“Me neither.”
Now his eyes met mine again, and they were practically undressing me. “Text Sarita and tell her you’re staying here.”
I lifted a hand and stroked his cheek. “If you weren’t drunk right now, I would.” I’d do it in a heartbeat.
“I’m not that drunk.”
“I practically had to lift you out of the taxi, Neil.”
He huffed an amused breath. “Fine. I’m drunk. But that doesn’t mean—”
“It means you’re not thinking straight. I’m not thinking straight either. Now go and drink some water before you go to bed. You don’t want to have a hangover in the morning.”
“Okay,” he said, looking at me like I was torturing him by leaving. I moved away and toward the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said as I left.
“See you tomorrow, Afric,” he reluctantly replied.
13.
Neil
I woke up with the mother and father of a hangover. The tail end of last night was a little blurry, though I did recall flashes of Afric coming back here with me in a taxi. Freaking out, I sat up in bed, trying to recall what happened, what I’d said to her. There was a half-finished glass of water on my nightstand. I picked it up and downed it in one long gulp, just as the memories resurfaced.
Oh, God.
I’d told her I wanted her.
I’d rested my head on her perfect breasts, nuzzled her neck, backed her up against the wall, and inhaled her scent. But … wait, had she said something about wanting me, too? The memory was too hazy to recall her exact words, but she certainly hadn’t been disgusted by my advances.
I was so full of regret and sick with a hangover that all I wanted to do was stay in bed all day and feel sorry for myself. I couldn’t do that, though, because I’d stupidly arranged to meet Annabelle. Not only that, I’d asked Afric to accompany me. So, now I had to meet Annabelle face to face with a hangover, and I also had to do it while being mortifyingly embarrassed for practically groping my newest friend last night.
Maybe deep down, I was a truly despicable person.
I sat there, wallowing for a long few minutes before I finally dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. I scrubbed my entire body clean while trying to figure out how to act in front of Afric when I saw her. Perhaps I should feign amnesia? People got too drunk to remember things all the time, right? At least that way, we wouldn’t have to discuss it.
I want to kiss you. I can’t stop thinking about it.
I winced. I couldn’t believe I’d told her that. What on earth had possessed me? I was normally so good at keeping my feelings and impulses to myself, but a few beers and a bit of jet lag and I was spilling my guts to one of the few people I truly enjoyed spending time with.