moved to her back again and looked up at the ceiling. “I should drink more often. Everything’s so pretty.”
Like a moron, I glanced up at the ceiling to see what she was talking about. It was solid white, like most ceilings. “I bet in the morning you’ll be vowing to never drink again.”
She threw an arm over her eyes. “Nah, I needed it. And I made friends. I love friends.”
I shook my head and laughed. She was damn cute like this—all loose-lipped and smiley. I also liked how she considered Max and the gang her friends. Granted, she was wasted, but she sounded like she truly valued the men she’d met tonight.
It was easy to look down on guys who spent their free time in a bar, but the truth was, those guys were just looking for people to pass some time with. They weren’t deadbeats but rather dependable men with good hearts, and I liked that Sophia recognized that about them.
I gave myself another second to watch her sprawled out on the couch before I extended a hand in her direction. “Okay, Drunk Spice. Get off my bed and go to yours.”
“I don’t wanna,” she whined.
I reached down and took hold of her hand and gently pulled. “Come on. Up ya go.”
“I’m not a baby,” she grumbled, but she made no move to get up.
“If you don’t get up, I’m going to shave your head while you sleep.”
Her eyes opened slowly. “You don’t have the balls.”
“You really want to test me and find out?”
“Kind of, yeah.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Dude, get up! Or else I’m going to roll you onto the floor and leave you there.”
“Like I’m scared of a floor,” she muttered, swaying upward slightly as if she were attempting the world’s lamest sit-up.
I pulled her hand as she started to drift back down toward the couch and managed to wrangle her to a sitting position.
“Okay, making progress,” I said.
She cut her eyes to me in a withering look before beginning to lie back down. “But I like the velvet couch,” she wailed when I pulled on her hand again.
Had I really thought she was cute a few minutes ago? She was a pain in the fucking ass. I moved my hand down so I was gripping her wrist and gave her one more pull to get her on her feet.
I hadn’t expected her to assist in this move, so she ended up flying toward me. As she collided with my chest, I wrapped my arms around her to steady us both.
Her hands had come up to keep her from face-planting into my sternum, and I instinctually gripped her lower back. I looked down at her and she looked up, and our gazes held for a long moment.
“If you wanted a hug, all you had to do was ask,” she said, finally breaking the silence. Her voice was so low and husky, it shifted the air in the room to something more tense and heavy.
“I’ll remember that for next time,” I replied, my voice almost a whisper.
We continued looking at one another, and it was as if we were caught in a bubble we were both terrified of popping.
“You saying there’ll be a next time?”
“Stranger things have happened.”
She nodded. “Like having a guy pretending to be your gay brother quickly becoming one of your best friends?”
I inhaled sharply at her words. Granted, we’d gotten along well, but hearing her voice and how she felt about me filled me with affection for this drunk idiot in my arms.
“Yeah. Exactly like that.”
She hummed in response, and the sound seemed to rumble down her body and radiate into my chest. Pinpricks of awareness popped out on my arms where I held on to her.
I should’ve let go minutes ago, but the thought of doing so held no appeal. And when I noticed her begin to move her face up to meet mine, I started to lean down to meet her halfway.
But just before our lips connected, I pulled back. She was drunk and vulnerable, and damn did I want to kiss her anyway. But I couldn’t. Not like this. Honestly, not like anything.
Hooking up with Sophia would top the list of Worst Plans Drew Ever Had. And that list wasn’t exactly a short one.
Her eyes were closed, and she swayed forward a bit more, clearly expecting my lips to be there. She startled a bit when she was met with only air. She opened her eyes slowly and looked up at