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“You can stay,” I tell him before I have a chance to talk myself out of it. Then again, drunk me is fully on board with this decision.
“Yeah?” Rushton asks. “You going to let me hold you again?”
“That sounds nice,” I say, snuggling into him.
“We’re both going to her place.” I hear him tell Merrick. That’s the last thing I remember before my eyes fall closed.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Rushton
My arm is wrapped around Crosby as we stumble up her front porch. She was asleep in the truck, and I’m cursing myself for getting drunk. I shouldn’t have had to wake her up. I should have been able to let her sleep as I carried her inside. My other option was for Merrick to carry her, and yeah, that’s not happening. Lucky for me, she was easy to wake.
She said I could stay, and I can’t wait to get her wrapped in my arms. It’s been too long since she let me do this. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t sure I’d ever have another opportunity. It’s been a couple of months of trying to get this girl to take a chance on me. At least she’s opened up, and I understand her worries. I just wish I could take them for her. That’s going to take time. I need to keep showing up, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.
I’m also going to hold on to moments like these with both hands until she knows without a shadow of a doubt that she can always count on me.
“You need some help?” Merrick asks.
“Nope,” I say as we take the last step and are both safely on the porch. “Thanks for the lift.” I wave over my shoulder as we stumble but quickly regain our footing.
“You sure?” Merrick calls out. I can hear the humor in his voice, even in my inebriated state.
I toss my hand in the air in a wave as Crosby pushes open the front door. I follow her inside, shutting the door and twisting the lock behind me. Just like the last time I found myself in this position, she doesn’t turn on the lights. She guides us to her room in the dark, and thankfully, we make it without any major catastrophes.
Inside her room, she stops a few feet from the bed and just stands there. Not able to resist, I wrap my arms around her, aligning her back to my front, and bury my face in her neck. “You okay?” My heart is pounding in my chest. I’m scared as hell she’s changed her mind, and my ass is going to end up on the couch, or worse, next door on my twin brothers’ couch. Of course, it’s her decision, but I’m craving the feeling of her in my arms all night.
The room is bathed in darkness, and the only sound is our breathing. She’s still in my arms but relaxed. “Tell me what you want, baby. I’ll give you whatever it is.” She’s second-guessing, and I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. I need to show her I’m in this with her and that she’s setting the pace.
“I was pretending.” Her words are so soft it’s as if she didn’t mean for me to hear her.
“When were you pretending?”
“Tonight.”
“Help me understand, gorgeous.”
“When you got there. You came to me, and I pretended that I was yours.”
My arms tighten around her as hope swells in my chest. “You don’t have to pretend, Crosby. I want you to be mine.” I’m not sure if I’ve ever actually told her that. If I’ve said the words out loud to her. I’ve been worried about scaring her away. Apparently, all I needed was to get some alcohol running through my veins to loosen me up and take the risk.
“I can’t be yours.”
The hope I was feeling crashes as my stomach falls to my toes. “I want you to be. When you’re ready.” She adjusts her position, and I hold her tighter. “I wish we could stay together just like this. Me holding you in my arms.”
She’s quiet, and I’m ready to apologize, but her words stop me. “Maybe… maybe we could pretend.”
“What?”
Her breaths start to come quicker. In an attempt to calm her down, I press my lips to her neck. She shudders in my arms, and my cock strains against my zipper. “Tell me,” I whisper in her ear.
“Tonight. Maybe we can pretend that I’m yours.”
“Tell me how you see this going. I need you to be open and honest with me, Crosby.”
“I-I see you kissing me. Touching me.”
“Where?”
“In my bed.”
Fuck me. “What are our limits?”
“Just… holding me and kissing me. I want to feel wanted,” she says, her voice cracking.
I turn her in my arms. I can’t see her expression, but I need her to be looking at me. I place my hands on either side of her face, and I wish that I could see those big brown eyes of hers, so I could see how she’s taking all of this. But something tells me that the darkness of the room, along with the alcohol, is giving her strength to finally ask for what she wants. To finally let herself ask for what she wants.
