Normally drunk guys are annoying, but I love drunk Rye. Then again, I love Rye any way I can have him.
“You’re not drunk enough,” he slurs, picking me up and making me laugh harder as he keeps my feet off the ground.
“I can drive us back,” I say, choosing my words carefully. I almost said home.
“I’m not that drunk,” he says, even as he staggers. “But I’ll let you call a cab.”
People don’t keep secrets when they’re drunk.
I hate to do this, but I can finally ask him what I’ve been dying to know. It may suck, but he’ll be honest without worrying about hurting my feelings.
When he puts me down, I tug at his hand. I stifle a grin when his mischievous smile comes up. I keep tugging at him until we’re outside, and he cages me in against the railing as his lips come down on mine.
“Rye,” I murmur, trying to break the kiss as he works harder to kiss me deeper.
“Don’t ruin it,” he says, confusing me.
“I just want to talk,” I say, pushing against his chest.
“What is there to talk about?” he asks, his lips still battling to get to mine. ?
?I know everything about you. You know everything about me. Let’s just have some fun tonight.”
My heart flutters, and I finally manage to push him back. “I don’t know everything.”
He tilts his head curiously. “I’ve pretty much told you the main points. Even some of the ugly stuff. I don’t want to talk about my mom. If that’s what this is about.”
His mom? What’s he talking about? What ugly stuff?
“What about your mom?”
He shakes his head. “That’s too much. Too dark. Too ugly. I’ve told you everything else. Isn’t that enough?”
His smile has vanished, and he looks to be hurting. I don’t know what’s going on, but I also don’t want to press him on that. Not yet. But I will. When he’s ready.
“You haven’t told me the truth.”
His brow furrows as he studies me. “I’ve never lied to you. Not even when it was something embarrassing you asked.”
In the next breath, I lose my courage. I promised him I wouldn’t do this, and I told myself I’d settle for what I could get. He’s already giving me more than I thought he would.
“You’re right,” I say, and his drunken, sweet grin returns. “Can we go back in?”
“Nope. I want to show you the vineyard,” he says, picking me up again.
“I’ve seen it.”
“Not with me. I have a feeling it’ll look a lot different.”
I laugh even as the heaviness settles over my chest. In a fleeting moment of vulnerability, he spoke about his mother. He’s never said anything about her other than the first night we were together. It’s worrisome. Especially if he’s drunk and still won’t talk. Drunk people always talk.
I’m not even drunk and I almost told him I love him.
Chapter 14
BRIN
Rye pulls up to my house, and he smiles as he turns and unfastens my helmet. The sun is too bright after so much alcohol. I gave in and got drunk. Fortunately I didn’t say anything too terrible, but we ended up crashing in one of the guest rooms and staying enveloped in each other all night.