He cut a confused look at the glowing button, then narrowed his eyes on her. “Are you drunk?”
That made her laugh. “Oh no. I want every moment of tonight crystal clear in my memory.”
The elevator doors opened.
“What are you doing?” Rafe asked.
“Going up to my room.”
He felt like his brain was in a game of Pong. “I thought you were staying with Tate.”
“Not tonight.”
She stepped back, and Rafe was caught between holding on to her and letting her go. He wasn’t ready for her to disappear. But he knew by the uncontrollable gnawing ache swamping him from shoulders to toes, he wasn’t ready to dive back into a friendship with her again either.
Mia fisted a hand in his shirt and pulled him toward the elevator.
His brain flipped to full-scale alert, and his body put on the brakes. “Whoa.” The farther he stayed away from any private spaces with her, the better. “I’m not going upstairs.”
Her smirk was hot and knowing and sure. “Oh yes. You are.”
A zing of holy-shit zapped his spine and spread fire through his groin. This wasn’t the Mia he knew. And this wasn’t the kind of relationship they had. This was a puck bunny scheming him into bed. And if this were any other woman even half as gorgeous as Mia, he’d already be upstairs with his head under her skirt, eating her out while she writhed and moaned.
His mind instantly put Mia in that position, and desire flashed through him, buckling his knees. He put one hand against the wall and pressed his other to her shoulder to keep him on his feet.
“What the hell…” He gripped her biceps and swung her out of the path of the elevator. When she didn’t seem the least bit fazed, he gave her a little shake. “What’s going on, Mia?”
She laughed, the sound hot and lazy. The elevator doors slid closed, and Mia reached out again, hitting the button.
His heart pounded like a goddamned jackhammer. Darting another look around, he bent his head and lowered his voice. “Where is this coming from?”
She got that gleam in her eyes again. The one that made his stomach squeeze and flip. The one that made heat collect between his legs. She reached into her purse and lifted her phone.
“Right here,” she said.
He glanced at the phone but shook his head, growing frustrated. “I don’t understand.”
Mia tapped her screen, entered her password, and turned the phone toward him, showing their text messages.
You’ll owe me, she’d told him.
Fine. Anything you want. I’m dying here.
Anything I want?
Yes.
You’re sure?
Mia. ANYTHING.
His stomach somersaulted, then dropped to his feet. His blood turned to ice one second, then melted in a firestorm the next.
“I didn’t think I’d need to explain,” she said, “but obviously, I do. My anything is you, me, upstairs, now. Is that clear enough for you?”
A fireball burst in Rafe’s gut. His mouth dropped open. He was dreaming. He had to be. It was so like one of his dreams to do this. To taunt him with the idea of being with her only to wake him before he’d so much as kissed her, leaving him in a moody funk for a week.
But, he didn’t wake. This was no dream.