Page 47 of Most Likely to Fear Love

When we pulled into my driveway, I killed the engine and got out, coming around to her side and dragging the door open. She climbed down on unsteady legs, wobbling slightly as her boots hit the ground.

“Whoa there,” I murmured, steadying her with a hand on her arm.

“I’m fine.”

Clearly, she wasn’t, the way she was slurring her words. Or when she took a step, she stumbled. Fuck it. I scooped her up in my arms. She let out a soft noise of protest, but I ignored it, holding her close as I carried her inside.

The living room was dark, save for the soft glow of a lamp I’d left on earlier. I kicked the door shut behind me and made my way to the couch, easing Cassidy down onto the cushions.

She groaned softly, draping an arm over her eyes. “I hate everything.”

“I know, darlin’.” I crouched down to tug off her boots. “Let’s get you sorted out.”

She didn’t fight me, just lay there motionless as I pulled off her second boot and set it aside. Her hair was a tangled mess, her cheeks streaked with the remnants of tears.

“I’ll be right back.”

In the kitchen, I filled a glass with water, grabbed a bottle of aspirin, and returned to find her still lying there, one arm slung over her face.

I sat down on the edge of the couch. “Cass. Take this.”

She peeked out from under her arm, her green eyes glassy. “You’re bossy,” she mumbled but sat up enough to take the water and pills from me.

“Yeah, well, I’ll deal with the fallout later.”

Eyeing me blearily, she swallowed the aspirin and chased it down with the water. Then she handed the glass back to me and flopped back down, curling on her side to face the back of the couch. She let out a shaky breath, her fingers digging into the fabric of the cushion.

I heaved a sigh, grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch, and draped it over her, tucking it around her shoulders. “Get some rest.”

Cassidy didn’t respond, just shifted slightly, her breathing evening out as she sank further into the couch.

With a final glance at her, I stood and headed toward the bedroom. Sleep didn’t feel like it’d come easy tonight, but I figured I’d try anyway. She needed space, and I needed to figure out where we were going to go from here.

CASSIDY

Iwoke up with a mouth so dry it felt like I’d swallowed a handful of sand. My head throbbed in time with my heartbeat, a dull, relentless pounding that made me groan as I shifted on the couch.

Cracking one eye open, I stared at the unfamiliar ceiling for a moment before turning my head. The faint scent of leather and wood polish tickled my nose, and the realization hit me. I was in Harle’s living room.

Oh. God.

The memories trickled back, slow and unwelcome. The bar, the dancing, the song that gutted me, and… the bottle. Heat crept up my neck as flashes of my breakdown flooded my brain. I groaned again, burying my face in my hands.

What the fuck had I been thinking?

After a few agonizing moments of wallowing in my shame, a more immediate need shoved its way to the forefront of my mind. I had to pee. Badly.

Swinging my legs off the couch, I sat up, immediately regretting the sudden movement. My head protested with a sharp spike of pain, and I winced, pressing a hand to my temple.

Dragging myself to my feet, I tottered toward the bathroom. A flash of movement outside caught my eye and I turned toward the picture window. What I saw had me frozen in place.

Harle.

He was in the lake, his back to the house and his hands locked behind his head. He’d never looked more like a Viking god, with the morning sun painting his hair and bare shoulders in golden light. Water droplets glistened on his skin. I couldn’t look away.

Swallowing hard, I was torn between embarrassment and a strange, quiet awe. Even at a distance, he looked solid, like nothing in the world could shake him. Not the mess I’d made last night, not anything.

I glanced down at myself. Rumpled clothes, hair that probably looked like I’d been dragged through a hedge backward. Sigh. If I wasn’t already mortified, this would’ve done the trick.

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