Page 47 of IOU

“Am I crazy?” I mock. “I’m not the one shitfaced, floating on an innertube in two feet of water out in the goddamned parking lot.”

“It’s the sidewalk,” she screams, grabbing onto my pants leg and trying to stand. She wobbles and takes two steps back before I’ve had enough and grab her arm and haul her over my shoulder.

“Put me down!” Her screams don’t come close to masking the laughter from the balconies. “I’m serious, Maverick!”

Ignoring her, I make the weighted steps through the front lobby and punch the button to the elevator. I refuse to carry her kicking and screaming up the stairs.

“I’ll scream,” she threatens.

“You already screamed, but be my guest and do it one more time for the people who haven’t seen your ass cheeks yet.”

Her wiggling stops. “Is my ass really hanging out?” It’s the first time since I found her that she’s sounded sober.

I debate lying to her but decide I’d rather she learn this lesson the hard way. “Yes.”

She sucks in a breath and pounds a weak fist into my back. “Put me down!”

“No.”

I’m not letting her down. She is coming inside the apartment and sobering the fuck up.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Her voice is strained. Battered. Not the badass it was a few minutes ago when she asked me to look and see if I saw two shits or a fuck in her eyes—something in my chest clenches.

“I’m sorry I took it out on you.”

I figured she would be eventually. She doesn’t like to be mean.

“Apology accepted, but you’re still not getting down until you’re inside and clothed.”

I feel her stomach concave over my shoulder as if she’s accepting defeat, and I relax a little.

“Fine. Will you at least fix my bathing suit? I don’t want your friends seeing my butt cheeks.”

That’s one thing we agree on.

I nod, clearing my throat. “Fine.”

But it’s anything but fine when my finger skims up the side of her leg, over the wet and scalding flesh. She’s silent, and not even her breathing can be heard when I slip a finger under the elastic of her bathing suit bottom. Slowly, I pull the material from the middle, my knuckles grazing the soft and supple skin, before letting go.

Her hands relax against me, and she strokes down my back. “Thank you.”

I don’t acknowledge her. I’m seconds from slamming her against the wall and seeing what the rest of her feels like.

Finally, the elevator dings and opens. I readjust Ainsley and open the door to our—my apartment.

“Get out,” I bark at a wide-eyed, grinning Sebastian. He throws his hands up in a placating manner. “I was on my way out anyway.”

He attempts to pass by, and I grab his shirt, forcing his eyes from Ainsley’s ass to meet mine. “Tonight’s game is canceled. Let everyone know. I don’t want any visitors.”

Sebastian’s tongue snakes out over his smirk and wets his lips. “I’m sure you don’t.”

A noise rumbles through my chest, and it isn’t until Ainsley says, “Bye,” that I realize I still have a fistful of his shirt. I shove him away, and he laughs.

“See you tomorrow.” He winks. “Goodbye,waitress.”

Fuck. He knows.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

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