He stared down at one of the most adorable women he’d ever met and wondered if someone had slipped a psychotropic drug into his last beer. “You’re...” He couldn’t think what to say. Oh, my God, you’re a virgin! Or... I don’t know what you’re talking about—you’re totally fuckable! His mind spun. He stayed silent.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have
told you. You just have such a nice face. And everything else.”
“Thank you,” he said carefully.
“Maybe you’d like to help with my problem?” He wasn’t sure what she meant until she waggled her eyebrows.
“You mean...with the...?” He pointedly dropped his gaze to a lower point on her body, then realized it was an extremely creepy gesture and snapped his eyes back to her face.
She nodded solemnly. “Yes. With that.” She pointed at the spot he’d just eyed. When he didn’t respond, her nodding slowed, then stopped entirely before she changed it to a negative shake. “No. Right? It’s a no?”
“I don’t... Veronica, I don’t know what to say. You’re really drunk. We shouldn’t even be talking about this.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying to let people see the real me.”
He swallowed hard, wishing he had another beer to wet his dry mouth. Or maybe something with caffeine instead of alcohol so he could navigate this minefield more deftly.
“You’re so cute,” she said mournfully, reaching up to slowly pat his cheek. Her fingers lingered, stroking down his beard. “Huh. It’s soft.”
“Thank you?” he ventured.
She looked so startlingly pretty when she grinned at him that Gabe finally snapped out of his shock and stood straight. “Okay. That’s it. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Yay!” she cheered, pumping her fists in triumph.
“Just you,” he clarified. “Not me. You need to sleep this off. This might be a little more of the real you than you meant to reveal.”
“The real me!” Veronica squealed, giggling as he retrieved the keys she’d left in the lock. “Look at her! She’s horrifying!” He set the keys on the table closest to her and closed the door.
“She’s not horrifying. She’s just being a little more candid than she’d like if she were sober.” Gabe gestured toward the open door of her bedroom.
Her hip hit the table when she turned, but she bounced off it and moved toward her bedroom. Gabe let his hands hover near her shoulders in case she started to lean. Once they reached her bedroom, he grabbed the blankets and pulled them back so she could just fall in. She tipped helpfully onto the mattress, then twisted around to look up at him.
“Are you sure you won’t stay?” she asked with the sweetest smile.
“Something tells me you’re not quite lucid,” he said as he took the purse she’d snuggled up to and put it on her nightstand. He snapped the covers over her before he could let himself notice that her dress had ridden up to expose more of those soft thighs now. Soft, until she shifted and tension added muscle definition. “So...” he said, forcing his thoughts off her legs, “I’m going to get you a big glass of water, and then I’ll leave.”
“That makes me sad.” Her bottom lip curved into a luscious little pout that made him want to taste her. “I want you to stay.”
“We can talk when you’re sober.”
“Promise?”
When he nodded, her pout turned to a smile. But then the smile wavered. Her eyes glistened.
“Are you okay?” he asked in alarm.
“Yes. You’re just so nice, Gabe.” She sniffled and a tear escaped. Then another. “And so hot. Just so, so hot.”
His laugh was half horror and half amusement. He handed her a tissue, then escaped to the kitchen to get a glass of water. “Here,” he said when he returned. “I think you’d better drink some of this. Can you sit up?”
She gave him a thumbs-up but didn’t move.
“Come on,” he said, carefully sliding his hand behind her neck to help her raise herself up. She cooperated with another smile that was ruined by her having to sniff back tears several times, but then she dutifully drank a third of the glass while he watched.
He pulled the covers up again when she lay down, then backed away. “Need an alarm?” he asked. It was only ten, but she might sleep for quite a while.