Laughing, he quickly gripped my waist as the floor started to slope off to one side. “I’ll give you a piggyback.”
He lifted me, sitting me on the bar stool next to me before turning his back on me, bending and wrapping my arms around his neck. As his hands slipped under my behind, lifting me off the stool, fumbling to get a decent hold on me, I giggled wickedly.
“Not sure what you’re looking for there, Pretty Boy, but it’s slightly to the left,” I joked. Everyone burst out laughing and I blushed. “Oops, did I say that out loud?” I pressed my face into his neck as everyone laughed harder.
After sending a triumphant smirk in Monica’s direction, I waved and chirped goodbye to everyone else that we’d spent the evening with. The air was refreshing as Ashton carried me out of the bar and into the street. Dean was sitting on the wall outside the bar, playing on his phone under the haze of a street light. He looked up and stood as we walked out. His gaze wandered to me on Ashton’s back, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
I had no idea how long it took to get home. Most of the time I just had my eyes closed and my head resting on Ashton’s shoulder as he walked with long, confident strides. He and Dean were talking about basketball.
As we got into the lobby of our apartment building, Peter, the night guard, came walking down the stairs to meet us. No doubt Dean had called him to tell him his shift was starting when we got back.
Ashton carried me right into my bedroom, finally setting me on my feet and looking at me worriedly. “Can you stand okay?” He reached out, gripping my elbow.
I giggled and slapped his hand away playfully. “I’m not drunk,” I protested, plopping heavily down onto the bed and giggling as the mattress bounced, making me feel a little lightheaded. Raising one foot, I tried to unbuckle my sandals, but my fingers wouldn’t do what I told them to do.
Ashton laughed loudly, taking my foot and easily pulling the strap off for me before doing the other. “Which case are your pyjamas in?” he asked, walking over to the two cases in the corner of the room.
I actually had no idea. Did I even bring pyjamas? I guess I must have done. “Um, I don’t know. I’ll just sleep naked,” I suggested, waving my hand dismissively at the case full of clothes.
He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds. “Give me a break here. Do you honestly not know which one they’re in?” he asked, shaking his head and rifling through the clothes carefully.
“Nope.” I laughed, popping the p and smiling broadly. Hopefully if I’m sleeping naked, I’ll be able to convince him to ditch the clothes too. He sighed and zipped the case back up. As he stood up, he gripped his T-shirt, pulling it off over his head, exposing those edible abs and chest that made my mouth water.
He threw the T-shirt at me, hitting me full in the face with it. “Sleep in that. I’m gonna go check the doors and windows and stuff.” He turned and walked out the door, closing it behind him.
I burst out laughing at his second rejection. Embarrassment washed over me because I was just lusting after him and he wasn’t even slightly interested. Obviously I hadn’t learnt from my rejection at the bar!
Shaking my head at myself, I tugged off my clothes, leaving my underwear on, and slipped his shirt over my head. As soon as I had it on, I moaned in appreciation. It smelt incredible, just like he did. Pulling the neck of the shirt up over my nose, I climbed in the bed, surrounding myself with his scent.
He strutted in moments later, carrying the bedcovers from the room next door. His eyes were tight before he spotted me in the bed. I whipped my mouth and nose out of his shirt, but it was too late, he’d seen it. A smile slipped onto his face as I squirmed at being caught. It was almost as pathetic as if I’d just been leaning in and sniffing his hair or something. Bet his subconscious was screaming the word ‘stalker’ at him.
“Doors and windows all locked?” I asked, rolling onto my side to watch him take off his jeans and socks.
“Yeah, you’re all safe,” he replied.
“Of course I am, I have a big, bad boyfriend to look after me,” I flirted, dragging my eyes down his body. He sighed and spread the sheet out onto the floor before walking around to the other side of my bed, picking up the spare pillow. Catching on to his intention, I shook my head. “You can sleep in the bed,” I protested.
He shook his head, tossing the pillow down onto the floor. “That’s not a good idea tonight.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
“Because you, plus alcohol, clearly equals horny beast,” he threw at me before flicking off the light, surrounding us with darkness.
I frowned, listening to the rustling of him settling himself down onto the makeshift bed on the floor. I rolled to my side, squinting through the darkness, seeing that he was lying on his back. “I was hoping you’d want to sleep in bed with me tonight,” I whined, after a few minutes of silence.
“I do.”
Fumbling with the bedside light switch, I turned it on, narrowing my eyes at the sudden brightness. He groaned, cupping his hands around his eyes too. “Then why don’t you, if you want to?” I asked.
“There’s a difference between what I want, and what can happen. You’re drunk and you need some sleep. If I got in the bed with you, then stuff might happen and you’d hate me in the morning for taking advantage of you. I refuse to do that.” His tone was final and stern. I pouted, and he chuckled wickedly. “You have the cutest little puppy dog face I have ever seen.” He shook his head, smiling up at me.