Page 41 of Stroke of Fate

Ignoring the squeeze in my chest, I smile down at her. “Why don’t we get you home?”

“Already? But I’m having so much fun.” She pouts, and my dick twitches painfully in the confined space of my jeans.

“I’m leaving and thought you could catch a ride with me.”

And get you away from anyone who thinks you’re fair game.

“Mm, I don’t know if I should.” Her words slur slightly as she loops her arms around my neck.

When I pull her flush to me, her eyes widen, and she giggles again. Damn, that sound is already growing on me. Drunk girls usually annoy me, but not her. There’s something endearing about a drunk Bear.

And having her in my arms? Mind. Fucking. Blown.

She grinds up against me, and there’s a heated look in her eyes that’s hard to ignore. We’re pressed so tight together that I can feel the erratic beating of her heart against my chest.

I groan, holding her even tighter against my straining dick. I don’t even try to hide my body’s reaction to her.

“Fuck Bear. Keep doing that, and I won’t care that we’re in a room full of people.”

Earlier, I told her I only wanted to talk. Now? I couldn’t care less. But I won’t make a move. Not when she’s drunk. Doing so would make me no better than the guy I chased away.

“Let me tell my friends I’m leaving.” Her voice comes out breathier than usual.

She quickly turns to the brunette she was talking to earlier, who leans in and says something I can’t make out over the music.

“Levi said he’d take me,” Bear says loud enough for me to hear as she peeks over her shoulder at me.

Her eyes me suspiciously as if trying to discern my true motives. She glances back at Bear, not looking entirely convinced.

“Are you sure? We can leave together.”

“No, have fun. I have pepper spray in my bag.” I'm not sure if she meant for me to hear that, but I chuckle under my breath anyway. To me, she turns and says, “I’m going to say goodbye to Elsie, and then we can go.”

I nod, assuming Elsie is another friend.

“Have you been drinking?” Her friend demands once Bear is out of earshot.

“No, I’m completely sober,” I tell her honestly. “Bear lives in my building, which is why I suggested she catch a ride with me,” I add, feeling the need to justify why we’re leaving together.

“I feel like the right thing to do is to have her leave with us.” Her friend’s clearly conflicted, and I can’t blame her for being cautious.

Knowing I should reassure her, I say, “Look, why don’t you give me your number? I’ll text you when we get home, and I'll have Bear do the same."

She stares me down, which is impressive, considering she’s at least a foot shorter than me.

“Fine,” she mutters. “But I swear if I don’t hear from you or her, I’m calling the cops.”

I start to laugh, thinking she can’t be serious, but the look she shoots me shuts me up fast. Okay, yeah, she’s serious.

“You don’t have to worry.” And I mean it because ever since I laid eyes on Bear, I’ve had this innate need to keep her safe. I can’t explain why or how. It’s just the way it is.

We exchange numbers, and I find out her name is Macy from her contact info. By the time I’m slipping my phone into my back pocket, Bear is back.

“I told him to text me when you get home. Make sure you do the same, please.” Macy tells her.

“I swear I will,” Bear promises.

It takes another round of Bear placating Macy, but soon, we’re out the door and on our way.

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