28. Kyle #2
His eyes dropped reflexively and caught the wet shirt outlining the perfect shape of her breasts.
Hard nipples. Her hair had fallen loose around her face, clinging to her throat.
Bare legs. Then his gaze slid to her eyes, his heart kicking at the way she was looking at him like she knew exactly what she’d just said.
That did it. He felt himself going hard.
Fuck. Me.
Kyle ragged his gaze back up, jaw tight, his tone as casual and smooth as he could manage. “Too bad I missed it.”
“Yeah?” Sloan tilted her head. “I’ll try to recreate it for you if you want.”
Not helping.
He pushed off the doorframe, stepping into the hall before his brain could catch up to his body. “Come on. Let’s get you to your bed, drunk lady.”
She laughed lightly, then tipped her head back against the wall, studying him in a way that was too intent. “Why are you awake?”
He crouched beside her, taking the empty cup from her hand and setting it on the ground. “I could ask you the same thing. Especially considering I wasn’t the one trying to drink my weight in gin tonight. I don’t know how you’re not snoring.”
“I asked first.”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Mm.” Her eyes met his, eyebrow quirking mischievously. “Thinking thoughts?”
She’s trouble tonight. “Occasionally.”
“That could be dangerous.”
“I like danger.”
She shifted, attempting to stand without him . . . and immediately failing, her hand slipping slightly against the wall.
Kyle stepped forward without thinking, catching her by the elbow before she could face-plant.
“Easy.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted, already leaning into him.
“Yeah, I can see that.”
She blinked up at him, closer now, her expression softening. Made his chest tighten. “You’re very . . . vertical.”
He chuckled. “That’s usually how standing works, yeah.”
“No, I mean—” She gestured at him. “You’re like . . . annoyingly stable. It’s off-putting.”
“I’ll try to be more chaotic for you next time.” He took her by the arm, leading her toward her bedroom. As he opened the door, the soft sound of a dog snoring greeted him—Sadie, apparently, because Charlie had already found his way to Kyle’s side and pressed her wet nose against his hand.
“No thanks, I’m good. Chaos is what led me to gin tonight.” Sloan shook her head, then pressed it against his bicep. And, apparently, because her filter wasn’t working so well, she went on. “So, are you ever going to tell me who Anna is or do I have to keep guessing?”
“Anna is Jeremy’s friend,” Kyle said, helping her onto her mattress. Charlie hopped up immediately, and Kyle snapped his fingers, directing her toward the foot of the bed as Sloan slid her legs under her sheets.
“She’s not just Jeremy’s friend, though.” Sloan turned onto her side, tucking her arm under her head. “Clearly, she’s into you. And she said you’ve kissed.”
“We kissed. I was drunk. It didn’t mean anything. It was right after Granny died, and I wasn’t handling it so well.” He stared down at her, wanting to change the subject. “Do you need me to get you a different shirt or something? One that’s not soaked?”
“Can I borrow one of yours?” she asked impishly.
Of course. He should have expected that. “Yeah, one sec.” He crossed the room and headed for his own room. Some things don’t change, I guess. She’d always stolen his favorite shirts and sweatshirts when they were younger.
After giving it to her, he left again, then went to the kitchen to refill the glass of water she’d dropped. When he returned, she’d changed into his shirt, her wet one dumped unceremoniously on the floor.
“Need anything else?”
She rubbed her forehead gingerly, looking away. “No, I’m good. Thanks for helping me out.”
“No, it’s fine. Just, uh, I’ll be across the hall if you need anything.” He pointed at the door.
As he turned to go, she spoke again, “Will you stay with me?”
He paused mid-step.
Stay? Here?
No, no. Not a good idea. Terrible one.
“Of course,” he said instead.
He went across the hall, grabbed his pillow, then went back to her bed.
As he climbed in on the other side of her, his brain practically entered into self-destruct mode while he settled his head against the pillow, and she scooted closer to him.
He stretched an arm out, curling it around her shoulder as she laid her cheek into his chest.
As though it was the most natural thing in the world for two so-called friends to just sleep in bed like this.
His skin was on fire now, body fully cataloging every point of contact.
Her thigh pressed against his, and her knee draped across his leg.
Her hand rested on his chest, fingers curled in a fully relaxed position, breasts—well, goddammit, he better not think about her breasts because his cock might explode.
“So, you made out with Anna,” Sloan said mildly, jumping right back into that topic. Her words were slightly slurred—either from drinking or tiredness.
“Making out is something you do when you’re a teenager. It was a drunken, sloppy kiss. Nothing more.”
“It seems like she’d like it to be more.”
“Maybe.” Probably not after tonight.
Her finger traced a circle against the front of his shirt. “What about you?”
“Do I want it to be more?”
She nodded.
Not with Anna. He cleared his throat. “I’m not really looking to date right now,” he said instead. “I have a few other things that I need to prioritize. Like employment.” And figuring out how to navigate my relationship with my ex-girlfriend.
“Do you like her, though?”
“In the circle yes, no, maybe sense?” He laughed lightly. Sloan had a way of asking these things that made her sound almost innocent.
“No, in the, would you date her if your employment was figured out sense.”
His thumb tapped lightly against her shoulder. “She’s not really my type.”
“So why were you being so weird when we drove to the bar then?”
“You want the truth?”
“No, I love lies.” The sarcasm dripped.
He sighed. “I was weird because I didn’t know how Anna was going to act.
I knew she was interested in me, and Jeremy has been trying to set us up.
I wasn’t expecting her to come tonight. But mostly .
. . I didn’t know how she would make you feel.
Our history makes situations like that feel complicated. ”
Several beats of silence followed. To the point that Kyle had to look down, half-convinced Sloan had drifted to sleep. But she was awake, breathing softly, the soft, occasional tap of her thumb indicating she was still processing.
“We’re friends,” she answered carefully. “You’re allowed to date anyone you want to. Women are allowed to be interested in you.”
Huh. Said with the sort of stoicism he remembered—painfully—that Sloan was quite capable of when she decided it was called for.
“Is that what you want?”
“What I want”—she took a long pause, like she was struggling to stay awake—“is for you to be happy.”
Considering she was much more likely to speak the truth right now, when she wasn’t sober, and her guard was down, he didn’t quite know how to take that.
He breathed out slowly, trying not to think about the fact that she was in his arms, already half-asleep from the sound of her light breathing. Yet that didn’t stop him from turning his head and lowering his face against the top of her hair, breathing in her intoxicating, sweet scent.
She hadn’t said she wanted anything more than friendship from him. Hadn’t made a move, really.
And do I want something more with her?
This friendship felt rife with the potential for everything to blow up in his face.
Stay, she’d asked.
So, he had.
And he was slowly beginning to realize that no matter how many times she asked him, he would. Because even though Sloan was the one who broke them up all those years ago, he knew now that a part of him had never truly stopped loving her.
I’ll probably always put her first. Even if he knew he shouldn’t.