Rushing In (Bailey Brothers #4) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,78

about that. Just followed him into what I assumed was his room. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off his boot and shoe.

Princess Squeaker thrashed, trying to get to Gavin, so I put her on the bed. “I’ll go get you some water.”

“You’re so great,” he said, absently petting the kitten. “You’re such a good friend. I really like you.”

“Thanks.”

I got him a glass of water from the kitchen and when I came back, he’d stripped off his clothes—all of them—and lay face down on the bed.

Was it bad that even though he was passed out drunk that I wanted to bite that adorable ass of his?

Probably.

The bed wasn’t made, so I pulled the sheet and comforter out from under him and covered him up to the waist. He shifted and mumbled something.

“What?” I asked.

“Don’t go.”

I slowly lowered myself onto the edge of the bed and ran my fingers through his hair. I wasn’t sure if I should touch him like this, but I couldn’t help it. “You want me to stay?”

He didn’t open his eyes. “I don’t want it to be a dream.”

“This isn’t a dream. I’m right here.”

“Okay. Good.”

I hadn’t planned on sleeping here tonight—and it probably wasn’t the best idea—but there was something about that drunk, sleepy voice of his.

“Stay with me,” he said again, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Please?”

That did it. I was sleeping here tonight.

I didn’t want to go to bed in my jeans or bra, so I took them off, but left the rest of my clothes on. That seemed like the thing to do, especially because Gavin was naked. Princess Squeaker cracked her eyes open and watched me warily as I slid into bed next to him. I had a feeling she wasn’t sure about sharing her space—or her mommy—with me. But ultimately, she went to sleep curled up next to Gavin.

And so did I.

I woke to the feeling of weight on my chest. Was there something on me? I blinked my eyes open and found myself on my back, looking up at the ceiling in Gavin’s bedroom. Gavin slept next to me, lying on his side. He shifted a little, a smile on his face.

It was about then that I realized the weight on my chest was his arm, and he was grabbing my boob.

Under my shirt.

His hand twitched, giving me a slight squeeze. I could feel my nipples harden and I turned my face toward him.

He peeked his eyes open and they suddenly widened. He yanked his hand off me and rolled away so fast he fell off the edge of the bed with a grunt.

I sat up. “Are you okay?”

He groaned and held a hand to his forehead. “Where am I? Is this my room?”

“Yeah, you’re home.”

“Why are you here? Oh shit, why am I naked? Oh my god, did I do it again?”

I smiled. “You drank too much so I brought you home. I don’t know why you took all your clothes off. You did that while I was in the other room.”

Groaning again, he rubbed his hands up and down his face. “I’ll be right back.”

I waited while he got up and went to the bathroom, walking gingerly without his boot. He came back and pulled on a pair of boxer briefs, then chugged the glass of water I’d left on the nightstand for him last night.

“Better.” He put the glass down and eased himself back onto the bed. “I was grabbing your boob in my sleep, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, you were.”

He winced. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. You were sleeping.”

“Are you sure we didn’t…”

“Positive. You don’t remember last night?”

“I remember some of it. I went to the Caboose with Cara, and there was a lot of whiskey. And I remember walking home and then you picked me up.”

“I think you were trying to take a nap on the sidewalk.”

He shook his head, laughing softly. “Way too much whiskey. Why did you come get me?”

“Cara called me.”

“She did?”

“Yeah, she said she got my number from your phone.”

“Man, I don’t even remember her taking my phone.” He glanced at me, one corner of his mouth hooking in a grin. “Thanks for getting me home.”

“You’re welcome. You were pretty funny, actually.”

“Drunk me is hilarious.”

“How is it that you barely seem hungover?”

“I’m a quick healer.” He shrugged. “Not that I’m complaining that you’re here, but… why did you stay the night?”

“You asked me to.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. I’m not surprised you don’t remember that part. I’m not even sure