Page 125 of Unsuitable

“You need a hand?” Cece asks.

“I think I’ve got it. He can walk.” I nudge his chin with my hand. “Can’t you?”

Sleepy eyes open to half-mast. “Huh?”

“Can you walk?”

“Of course I can,” he slurs, drunkenly sleepy.

I reach over and lock the door. Then, I put my arm around his waist. Gripping ahold of him, I move him off the wall. He starts to walk with me, but he’s leaning a lot of his weight on me.

God, he weighs a lot.

I consider myself to be quite strong for my size, but I’m buckling under his weight.

I keep moving, trying to get him to pick up the pace before I fall over. We pass by Cece.

“See you in the morning,” I tell her. “And sorry about…you know.” I tip my head in Kas’s direction.

“Don’t worry about it. And he came to see you, so all is not lost,” she whispers that last part.

My eyes flash up to Kas, whose eyes are firmly shut, but I’m sure he heard her.

I give Cece an annoyed look.

She just grins at me and then disappears back into her room.

Sighing, I maneuver Kas into my bedroom and then onto my bed, which he hits with a thud and nearly takes me down with him.

Righting myself, I walk over and switch on the bedside lamp. The light illuminates his gorgeous face.

He’s sprawled out on my bed, eyes shut, breathing deeply, with one leg hanging off the edge.

Of all the ways I imagined Kas being in my bed, this was not one of them. Drunk and passed out.

He’s going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning.

I unlace his trainers and pull them off. Then, I stare at his trackpants and T-shirt.

Should I undress him?

Maybe not the pants, but I’ll just take his T-shirt off, so he doesn’t get too hot.

I lean over and grab the hem of his T-shirt to lift it.

His hand whips out and catches my wrist, stopping me. “Don’t.” His low voice is a warning.

I swallow back my surprise, feeling like I was just caught doing something wrong. “I was just trying to make you comfortable.”

“Don’t…want you to…see me,” he mumbles. Then, his tight grip on my wrist loosens, and he rolls over.

He doesn’t want me to see him? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I retreat back, rubbing at my wrist. Leaving the room, I go to the kitchen and get a glass of water and some aspirin for the morning.

I go back to my bedroom, and he looks fast asleep, his breaths deep and even. I put the water and pills on the nightstand, and then I pull the duvet over him, covering him.

Staring down at him, emotion grips my chest.