Chloe. He was at Chloe’s house.
Lifting himself up, he groaned, then lay back down so quickly, he conked his head on the edge of the couch’s arm, which made him groan louder. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head.
He stared at the ceiling, noticed that the room spun even though he wasn’t moving. Still a little drunk.
Not a good sign.
Hauling himself into an upright position, he glanced around, noted that it was completely dark. Saw from the glowing blue digital light on the microwave in the kitchen it was past one in the morning. Which meant he’d slept at least six hours, passed out on Chloe’s couch.
He was such an ass. Could hardly remember how he got here. The two girls flirting with him, Chloe swooping in and making her claim like a jealous girlfriend, which he’d loved.
Touching her thigh, telling her he’d give her a workout she’d never forget or some such bullshit. Then stumbling into her house, falling onto the couch, and that was…it.
She probably hated him. Fine, because he was still sorta pissed at her, irritated she gave in to Jane. Could he blame her? Should he blame her?
Yes and no.
He stood and shuffled into the kitchen, poured himself a giant cup of water and drained it. Then poured himself another. All the whiskey he’d drank had left him dehydrated and his mouth tasted something awful.
Deciding to do something about that, he crept to her bathroom, making sure he was quiet when he closed the door before he turned on the light. Trying his best not to invade her privacy, he dug around, looking for mouthwash, though if he had to squirt a wad of toothpaste in his mouth to get rid of the foul taste, he’d do it.
Luckily enough, he found the mouthwash in the cabinet under the sink and took a swig, swished it in his mouth, gargled as quietly as he could before he spit it out and rinsed the sink. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he grimaced.
He looked like hell. His hair stuck up all over the place, he hadn’t shaved in a few days, and his shirt and shorts were wrinkled. He looked downright rough. Like passed out in a gutter rough.
Imagine what he might’ve looked like if Chloe hadn’t come to the bar and rescued him? He shuddered at the thought.
Turning off the light, he exited the bathroom and stood in the hallway, contemplating his next move. He couldn’t leave, since he wasn’t sober enough yet. And he really didn’t want to go back to that couch, either. It was too short for his over six-foot frame.
He carefully opened a closed door and peeked inside, could make out it was a guest room but there were boxes and bags and
all sorts of stuff on top of the bed. Guess he couldn’t sleep there, either.
Feeling a little like Goldilocks, he figured his last option would most definitely be the best, what with a cozy bed and an even cozier woman to snuggle up to.
Frowning, he shut the door and started for the room at the end of the short hall. Cozy was not the proper word to describe Chloe. Sweetly sexy, that worked. Warm and open? Oh yeah, that fit her to a T. Would she welcome him in her bed like this, in the middle of the night and him still a little drunk?
His hopes were high.
Cam entered the room, stopping at the foot of the bed so he could watch her. The room was dark, he couldn’t make out much but a lump in the center of the bed and he smiled. Looked like perfectly polite Chloe was a bed hog.
Not deterred, he unbuttoned his shorts and pushed them off, kicking them aside. Tore off his T-shirt and nearly fell on his ass when the room still spun a little bit. With a grunt, he braced his hands on the edge of the bed, which caused Chloe to roll over, a soft little murmuring coming from her.
That intimate sound sent his body on high alert. Swallowing hard, he second-guessed himself. He was venturing into unchartered territory. Becoming intimate with Chloe wasn’t a simple good-time summer romance like they’d agreed upon. Damn it, he needed to confess to her about their argument before he took this any further, but how? He didn’t want to ruin this chance. Hell, it was already halfway ruined, what with him slightly drunk and still a little mad at her himself.
His head spun from too many conflicting thoughts. He needed to just go for it. Confessions could be made tomorrow. Right?
He was fooling himself if he didn’t admit what they shared was far more than a simple summer romance already. But taking it to the next level would bring on certain expectations. She warned him if they had sex, she would become too attached. When she’d said that originally, he’d freaked out a little.
Now, he…wanted that. Wanted to see what happened when they took that next step. How would it affect her? More importantly, how would it affect him?
For once in his life, he was eager to find out.
Chapter Nine
Chloe woke to warm, strong arms wrapping around her and hauling her close to an equally warm, hard muscled body. Her breath lodged in her throat and she lay there completely still, knowing exactly who was in her bed. She recognized that deliciously intoxicating masculine scent anywhere.
Cameron.