I walk backward, guiding him down the hall. His bloodshot eyes are fastened on me and it’s hard to keep my heart steady.
I tell myself repeatedly that the friendship line between us needs to stay and that he’s drunk anyway. When I get him into his room, he collapses onto the bed, yanking me down with him intentionally. He vice-grips his legs around mine and hugs his arms around my chest, pinning me close to him as he burrows his face into my neck and he nips at my skin before stilling.
I squirm my arms and wiggle my legs, but he only constricts his grip. Panic rushes inside me the longer he keeps me trapped and I loathe my messed-up head.
“No way,” he breathes, nuzzling closer. “I’m not letting you go.”
“Ethan,” I call out quietly, working to keep my voice composed. “Can you come in here?”
Moments later, Ethan appears in the doorway and braces his hands on the door frame. The sleeves of his black hoodie are rolled up, showing the colorful tattoos on his arms. “Did you need something?” He grins, entertained at the sight of us.
I jerk my shoulder upward. “Can you help me get him to let me go?”
Rubbing his scruffy jawline, he considers my request. “I think it’s better if you stay there. That way if he wakes up still drunk you’ll have to deal with him.”
“Ethan,” I hiss, but he walks away, laughing to himself.
I call out for Lila a few times, but she never responds, and I wonder if Ethan told her she could go home. After a lot of squirming, I manage to get one arm free. I rub my tired eyes, watching Micha and listening to him breathe in and out. I run my fingers through his hair and then trace a finger down his temple to his lips. God, he’s beautiful.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” I whisper, returning my hand to my side.
He breathes softly, his breath caressing my cheek. I surrender the idea of getting away and kiss his forehead before snuggling up to him with a small smile. Next time I visit my therapist, I can tell her I was hugged for ten hours straight.
Chapter 11
Micha
I open my eyes to Ella sleeping soundly in my arms, with one of my hands on her hip and the other just below her breast. I’d be extremely happy, but my head is pounding, my stomach burns, and I have no idea what the hell happened last night—what I did or said.
Carefully, so not to wake her up, I climb out of bed and go into the bathroom. The room spins and my brain feels like it’s going to explode inside my skull.
After I puke my guts out, I brush my teeth and return to the room. Ella’s awake, sitting up in the bed and leaning against the headboard.
“How are you feeling?” A tiny bit of amusement glistens in her eyes.
“You think my pain is funny?” I crawl onto the bed and lie down on my stomach with the taste of vomit burning at the back of my throat. “What the hell happened last night?”
Her fingertips travel up and down my bare back in circular motions. “Well, it started with you drinking half a bottle of vodka and it ended with you trapping me in your bed.”
I raise my head up and cock an eyebrow at her. “Did we…”
She shakes her head and lowers her body down so she’s lying on her side next to me. “You just wouldn’t let me go. You’re kind of evil when you get that drunk.”
“Did I say mean things to you?”
“No, but you tried to start a few fights.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, frowning. “For whatever I did.”
Her big green eyes blink at me. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to tell me what’s up.”
“Nothing’s up,” I lie, looking away. “I just went a little overboard.”
“You know, this isn’t fair.” She tugs on my arm and I look at her. “You make me tell you everything and when I won’t, you chase me down, pin me down, or tease me until I give in to you.”
“You could always try that,” I tell her in a low, husky voice. “It might be interesting to see how it goes. In fact, I dare you to try.”
Her body goes rigid. “Micha, just talk to me.”
I shake my head stubbornly. “I told you to try to make me first and then maybe I will.”
She bites