Page 62 of What Are the Chances
“Whether you want me to.”
“Will we have sex?”
I barked out a laugh. “You’re way too drunk, Dover.”
My dick groaned in protest.
If Riley and I were to ever entertain that idea again, it would be when she was sober enough to remember it in the morning. And when I could guarantee she wasn’t going to have any regrets.
“Your loss,” she shrugged.
I exhaled. My loss indeed.
She slipped from the barstool and headed for the stairs without another word. I guess she was staying.
I flicked off the downstairs lights and made sure the doors were locked before climbing the first set of stairs to my room. With the door still wide open, Riley was at the foot of the bed, slipping out of her jeans. Summoning as much willpower as I could, I averted my gaze and walked straight to my wardrobe.
“Want something to sleep in?”
“I’m good.”
When I turned back she’d ditched her top and was climbing beneath the covers in nothing but a matching set of lacy underwear. This girl was about to really test my patience.
After heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth, I returned to the bedroom and shrugged off my suit jacket. Sitting against the headboard, Riley watched me unbutton my dress shirt. The way she was looking at me was criminal. The safest bet would definitely be to sleep on the couch, because if she made a move, I don’t know if I’d have the self-control to stop her.
“Why’s your stomach red?” she questioned.
“Because I was just icing it.”
Jesus, how drunk was she?
“What did you do to it?” she pressed.
“I played a game of hockey, that’s what.”
She threw back the covers and crawled to the edge of my bed, which was torture to watch. Though entirely innocent, it was the most seductive thing I’d ever seen. Especially dressed as minimally as she was.
Pushing onto her knees, she trailed her warm fingers down my stomach. “You’re hurt.”
I arrogantly smirked. “You should see the other guy, Dover.”
Her eyebrows pulled at that. “I don’t want to see any other guys.”
I tried not to read into what she was saying too much. She was drunk after all.
With a pout, Riley slipped back beneath the covers and lazily flopped against the pillow.
After ditching my slacks, I turned off the light then tracked the familiar walkway to my bed.
Riley had chosen the left side, the same side that had belonged to her when we were together. Still unable to lie on my right shoulder, I rolled onto my left side and began getting comfortable. Unlike the awkwardness in my swag,Riley immediately scooted back to mould her body around mine. Well,intomine was more apt. I dwarfed her small frame.
I draped her hair over her shoulder so I didn’t inhale it while I slept. In nothing but boxers myself, too much of our skin was touching. We were in dangerous territory here.
“Hey, Caufield,” Riley whispered.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry for telling you about Hayes.”
