Page 80 of By His Play

If I thought for even a second that drinking the entire bottle would help, I’d tell her to have at it.

But the only thing it’ll leave her with is regret and a massive hangover.

Sure, it might help her forget for an hour or two, but it won’t be worth it.

She’ll hate herself for it tomorrow, and I’d much rather she hate me now for not letting her drown her sorrows in alcohol.

“I just need to forget,” she pleads, attempting to move the glass closer to her face. All she achieves is another slosh of vodka on her chest.

“I know, but this isn’t the way,” I argue, easily overpowering her and removing the glass from her grip.

“Then what is? It hurts, Kieran. It hurts so fucking much. I need some relief. I just need some?—”

I act on instinct.

I cut her words off with my lips.

Talk about doing things you’ll regret tomorrow…

She freezes against me, and I panic.

Did I read her wrong earlier?

No. There is no way.

She wanted this.

Me.

My heart races so fast, my head spins a little. To be fair, it could also be the vodka.

I open my eyes and find her staring back at me.

“Tell me to stop,” I demand against her lips.

If she does, I can take a step back and go and shower.

I’ll take care of business and then come back out here and be the friend she needs.

But if she doesn’t…

“Please,” she whispers, squeezing her eyes closed. “D-don’t…stop.”

“Look at me,” I demand, pulling back a little bit.

She drags her heavy eyelids open, and her eyes immediately find mine.

“Don’t stop,” she repeats.

So I don’t.

Surging forward, my lips crash against hers and my hands grip her waist.

I lean into her, my lips parting at the same time hers do, and our tongues meet.

Her hands slide up my chest before her fingers twist in the short hair at the nape of my neck.

A deep groan fills the kitchen, and it takes a couple of seconds to realize it came from me.

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