Chapter Sixteen
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
GARRETT
When we step out of the bar, the cool night air hits me, chilling the sweat along my forehead and the back of my neck. I shiver, but the cold is refreshing after the heat of the bar.
The streets are quiet, illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. It’s a stark contrast from the crowded party atmosphere inside Carson’s . It’s peaceful and I feel like I can breathe properly for the first time in over an hour. Marie tilts her head back and sucks in a deep breath before slowly letting it out. Her shoulders relax and the tension around her jaw lessens.
“It’s a nice night,” she murmurs before turning to walk down the sidewalk. I walk beside her, hands shoved in my pockets. We don’t talk for several moments and I’m not sure what to say. Instead, I steal glances her way and replay the scene in the bar over and over in my head.
She’d walked into the bar, looking so damn good in her little dress and her dark brown hair falling in soft curls around her shoulders. Her deep brown eyes had locked on me and I hadn’t been able to look away from her, and the way her dress hugged her curves in all the right ways. Later, when I saw that asshole dancing with her—touching her—jealousy stole my breath. I’d had to fight not to storm over to them right that second and rip her from his arms. When it became obvious that she wanted to get away and he wasn’t letting her, I’d let myself loose. If we hadn’t been surrounded by witnesses, I’d have beaten that fucker’s face into the floor.
“You should be more careful,” I say.
She looks up at me with a frown. “What?”
“You shouldn’t let random guys get so close to you. You can’t be sure what they’re intentions are.”
She comes to an immediate stop and turns to me with a scowl, her eyes flashing with anger.
“That’s none of your business,” she snaps. “I appreciate you stepping in when you did, but that doesn’t mean you get to criticize me and the way I interact with other men.”
“Well, you clearly weren’t thinking straight, letting that guy put his hands on you,” I growl.
She lets out a frustrated groan and continues storming down the sidewalk. I hurry after her, not ready to let this issue go.
“I was having fun,” she hisses. “It’s not my fault if that shithead ended up being a creep. I’m not responsible for his actions.”
“That just means you have to be more careful,” I insist. “Yeah, it’s not fair, I get that, but that’s why you have to be on your guard.”
“I don’t need a lecture, thanks.” She stomps harder and faster as she grows angrier. “You haven’t had any interest in what I do for weeks now. There’s no reason for you to pretend you care now.”
I furrow my brow, caught off guard by her sharp words. Is that what she thinks? That I don’t care? That couldn’t be further from the truth. All I’ve ever done regarding Marie is because I care about her.
Her house isn’t far from the bar, and we reach it a few minutes later. She climbs the three short steps to her porch, and I hurry to catch up before she can go inside.
“I’m just looking out for you,” I tell her, grabbing her hand to stop her from opening the door.
She jerks out of my grip as she whirls to face me. “I don’t need you to look out for me! I’m not your responsibility.”
I stare down at her, at a loss for words. Not my responsibility? I think of the promise I made Mom, and how hard I’ve been trying to keep it. How much I’ve had to fight to resist my desire for Marie. If I didn’t feel so fucking responsible for her, we wouldn’t be standing here, having this argument.
She’d be underneath me, naked and moaning in pleasure as I drive my cock into her again and again.
I clench my jaw and curl my hands into fists at my sides as frustration burns through me. I’ve been trying so hard to do what I thought was the right thing, but it’s only made her resent me. Despite my best intentions, I only ever seem to screw things up with her.
“Look, I can take care of myself,” she grumbles, waving her hand dismissively. “I don’t need you looking out for me.”
Now that pisses me off. It’s hard to say why, but hearing her say that she doesn’t need me makes me want to prove her wrong. She needs me… even if she doesn’t want to admit it. She needs me the same way I need her. I know how badly she wants me. There’s no way her desire has died off so quickly, and if she won’t let me protect her, then I’ll make damn sure I take care of her in other ways.
Closing the gap between us, I grab her waist and yank her against me. Her eyes go wide and she gasps, but I drop my lips to hers and kiss her before she can say a word. The kiss is hard and desperate. I press her up against her door and cup her face in one hand while my other keeps a firm hold of her waist. She grabs the front of my shirt and I expect her to push me away, but instead, she curls her fingers into the fabric and clings to me.
Our tongues tangle and I’m lost to the feel of her against me and the taste of her lips. Fuck, I missed this. I can’t deny it. She just feels so damn good… so right. This feels so natural and easy, especially compared to the effort it takes me to resist her. When I kiss her, nothing else seems to matter. It all fades into the background, and there’s only me and her.
I want more. I want to feel her soft skin against mine again. I want her body wrapped around mine as she moans and whimpers in my ear.
Glancing around to make sure there’s no one out on the street, I move the hand I have on her waist down to the skirt of her short dress, I grab it and yank it up so I can reach between her legs and touch her. When I drag my finger along her panties, she hisses in a breath and I growl. She’s already wet… her panties damp.
“Fuck, Marie,” I murmur against her lips. “You want me bad, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” she breathes, not bothering to lie or play hard to get. “But you want me too.”
She reaches down and cups the growing bulge in the front of my pants. I grunt and grind myself against her palm, at the end of my control. Reaching around her, I grab hold of her doorknob. It’s time we took this inside…
Marie shoves me back and ducks under my arm, her hand covering her mouth. She rushes to the edge of her porch and leans over the railing. The next second, she starts vomiting into the bushes in front of the house.
Rushing to her side, I pull her hair back from her face to keep it out of her way. She continues to be sick for several moments until she’s dry heaving. Finally, she’s able to stop and leans against the railing as she catches her breath. Unsure what else to do, I rub her back and continue to keep her hair out of her face.
“Are you okay?” I ask gently.
Panting, she straightens and looks up at me. Her face is pale and her eyelids half-closed.
“I’m fine,” she whispers. “I… I think I just want to go to bed.”
“All right, I’ll help you.”
She tries to protest. “No, it’s okay…”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” I tell her, looping my arm around her waist. “You need help. I didn’t realize you were so drunk, so let me help you get inside and up to bed, okay?”
“I’m not drunk,” she mumbles, but I ignore that as I help her get to the front door.
Opening it, I take her inside and we make our way upstairs to her bedroom. I only let her go when we’re inside the room and I’m certain she won’t fall down the stairs or stumble and hurt herself. She goes into her bathroom and shuts the door. The water turns on in her sink. As I wait for her to come back out, I can’t help but wonder how I didn’t notice that she was so drunk to the point of getting sick. She seemed perfectly coherent the entire time we’ve been together. She doesn’t even smell like alcohol.
What does that mean for our fight? Did she only say those things because she’s intoxicated? They’d seemed so sincere—her anger so real.
It’s possible being drunk only made her more honest. Whatever the case may be, it’s not something I should worry about right now. I just need to make sure that she’s okay and get her settled for the night.
A few minutes later, Marie opens the bathroom door and steps out. She’s changed into an oversized t-shirt that barely reaches her thighs, so when she walks, I get a good look at her panties. My cock twitches at the sight, and I struggle to keep my lust under control. Now’s not the time. Hold your shit together, man!
Marie drags her feet to her bed and climbs up and buries herself under the covers. I move to the side of the bed and sit next to her. With a gentle touch, I brush her hair back from her forehead.
“Do you want to get you some water?” I ask.
“I’m okay,” she murmurs. Her eyes are already closed. “I swear, I’m not drunk.”
Sure she’s not. I’m not going to argue with her, though. She doesn’t have a fever, so I doubt she’s sick because she’s got a bug. It doesn’t really matter. I don’t care if she’s drunk. I’ve been worse than her plenty of times before. She’s in bed now, safe and sound, and that’s all I really care about.
“All right,” I say in a soft voice. “Get some sleep and I’ll check in with you in the morning, okay?”
“M’kay,” she mumbles, snuggling deeper into her blankets.
I lean down and press a soft kiss at her temple. She’s kind of adorable like this. I sit a few more minutes until her breathing grows even and steady. She’s fast asleep.
Slowly and carefully, I make my way to the bedroom door. I pause to look back at her and my heart twists in my chest at how peaceful she looks. A part of me wants to go back, climb into bed next to her, and hold her until morning.
I resist the urge, telling myself that she’s sick. She might wake up and not even remember what all happened tonight. Releasing a long breath, I turn and continue down the hallway, down the stairs, and out the front door, making sure to lock it before I close it behind me. When I reach the sidewalk, I turn back to gaze up at her house.
My lips still tingle from our kiss. What am I going to do? I’m not sure if I can continue with this back and forth with Marie for much longer. Every time I think I have myself under control with her, something happens and my desire wins. I just can’t seem to stop myself. Do I just stop fighting it? Give in and pursue whatever it is I’m feeling for her?
Where would that leave me with my promise to Mom? The thought of her being disappointed in me for not taking care of Marie like a sister is something I can’t stand.
Shaking my head, I walk away from the house. One way or another, I have to figure this out, because if I don’t, I’m only going to end up hurting Marie even more than I already have. That’s not what Mom would want either.
It’s time for me to grow some balls and make my choice.