“Not together,” she quickly shot out, “alone. You have your own bed.”
“I got that.” I didn’t make much of the comment. If I had to guess, she got there from thinking about gray wolves making wolf babies. Instead, I focused on getting her to her feet, steadying her with both hands on her waist.
“Okay.” She stretched out both arms for balance as if the living room floor was a tightrope. She still wobbled.
“Cordelia?” I asked. One word and I’d carry her upstairs. This was hardly the first time I’d seen her drunk, and it wouldn’t have been the first time I’d have to carry her.
“I can do it.” For the first time all afternoon, her eyes snapped up to meet mine. Her glacial gaze suddenly focused on me with enough clarity to freeze me in place. “I can do whatever I want. I’m in total and full control.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and before I was able to process her actions, she pressed her lips against mine.
For a short moment, my body reacted of its own accord. I bent to her, her sweet taste and soft mouth clouding all judgment. My hands tightened around her waist, fingertips digging into her curves. I pulled her closer until her body was flush with mine and her warmth seeped into me. My tongue methers. Every muscle that had been wrought tight for the last few hours, every alert nerve, eased into the kiss where the only thing that mattered wasmore.Moreof her taste,moreof her warmth,moreof her body. I was desperate formoreand she gave it.
She let out a low moan and my momentary illusion shattered.
This was Cordelia.
Cordelia.
I tilted my chin down, breaking the kiss. I left it down even when her small whimper of protest tugged at my instincts to give her what she craved.
“You’re drunk,” I breathed and shook my head. Despite my words, I was unable to ease my grasp, to put any distance between us. I knew how wrong it was, but Ihadher.
“I want to.” Her arms tightened around my neck as she pulled herself up. She kissed me again, but this time I remained still. Her hungry mouth crashed over my tightened lips. It was the only rejection I could muster up. I would have liked nothing more than to grab fistfuls of her golden hair and kiss her until those pouty lips were red and swollen.
“Oh.” Cordelia fell back, rocking on her heels. As she did, my hands finally eased, only able to let go when it was her decision. Cordelia’s lids fluttered rapidly as tears sprung up.
“Let’s get you to bed.” I swallowed around the knot in my throat.
“I can do it.” She twisted away from me and stumbled around the sofa. Her steps were clumsy and she steadied herself by the furniture she passed.
“Cordelia, wait.” I stepped towards her, but when I did, she immediately stepped backwards and her body swayed enough to almost tip. So I stayed put and waited for her to catch herself against the console table.
“Good night,” she gasped, breath rattling.
This was wrong. I was supposed to help her and get her upstairs safely.
I wasn’t the one she pulled away from.
I wasn’t the one she kissed. At least I hadn’t been in years.
God help me, because a few seconds of her mouth on mine and Cordelia Montgomery had obliterated six years of keeping a sensible distance. Back then, it had been easy to revert to sensible. I’d barely known her. Now I sometimes understood her thoughts better than my own, chopped vegetables small enough to hide them from her, could draw the exact shape of the birthmark on her left shoulder, and I just wanted to keep kissing her.
CHAPTER FIVE
I was hidingunder my blanket. Couldn’t face the consequences of my own actions if I just stayed here, right? Fitzi had curled his fluffy warm body against me, and I selfishly told myself that moving would just wake and upset him. I was perfectly justified in hiding for however long he wanted to nap.
I’d started googling how to act after kissing someone you shouldn’t have kissed, but the results had been bordering on extremely creepy, so I’d switched to adding cat toys to my ever-growing shopping basket. Couldn’t face Victor if I just spent the day online shopping.
My coward’s plan was diminished by a knock on my bedroom door.
“Breakfast.”
Nope. That very much was Victor. Who I shouldn’t have drunkenly kissed. The handle clicked, but the door remained locked. I inwardly thanked my drunk self for being that proactive.
“Cordelia?”
“One second,” I squeaked and pushed my covers off. I didn’t even know what I looked like. I’d just fallen into bed with half my clothes on, not bothering with makeup remover. It shouldn’t have mattered because Victor had seen it all. The good, the bad, the ugliest. But it mattered because I’d kissed him. And then I’d kissed him again after he’d pulled back. I’d drunkenly thought he’d been kissing me back. That he’d liked it. But he’d set clear boundaries and I’d blown through them. I was so, so stupid.
I grabbed my pillow, pressed it over my face and groaned into it, unable to contain my frustration.