Bending to take off my shoes, I have a difficult time maintaining my balance. Using the wall for support, I succeed, though barely. The sound of the door closing behind me is startling, and my head jerks up. “I thought you left.”
Ransom shakes his head. “You can barely stand. I’d be angry at myself if I didn’t at least stick around long enough to make sure you made it to your bed.”
I don’t know how I feel about him being in my personal, private space. With a relationship like ours, this kind of thing isn’t supposed to happen. He isn’t supposed to know my name, who I spend my time with, or where I live. In a week’s time, that careful balance has been shattered.
The kindness in his dark eyes is surprising, though. There’s something different about him tonight, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. The man I know never had a look that I would call “kind.” Predatory is more like it. Is this the man he really is outside the bedroom? Not that I am complaining. What girl doesn’t like being taken care of?
Placing a hand on my lower back, he urges me on. “Come on, let’s get you tucked in.”
Following my lead, we walk together through the hallway that connects my minute living and dining rooms with the even smaller kitchen, bathroom, and single bedroom. It is such a tiny space that it only takes a few steps before we are standing outside the door. Staring at my queen-sized bed, I can’t decide what my next move will be.
On the one hand, I really want sleep. On the other, I really need the bathroom. As drained as I am, I know I have to take care of one before I can do the other. “I need to…” I point to the bathroom behind us, my cheeks feeling flushed.
Taking a step back, Ransom gives me enough space to get by. “While you do that, I’ll go get you a glass of water.”
I nod, thankful that he is giving me distance, and close the door. After spending a solid five minutes hanging over the toilet bowl and realizing that I haven’t quite reached the point of no return, I relieve myself and take a minute to scrub my face clean of makeup and pull my hair back. When I run out of things to do, I return to the bedroom to find Ransom sitting on the edge of the mattress.
The sight of him there makes my blood simmer. Screw personal space. I like the idea of having him in my bed, of his rich cologne permeating my sheets.
He stands as I walk in. “I found a bucket under the sink, in case you need it later. Water is on the table. Do you need me to bring you anything from the bathroom, aspirin or Tylenol?”
How incredibly…sweet. I study his offerings, unable to keep the smile off my face. “This is perfect,” I tell him. I’m used to taking care of myself, so this is a treat. “That was very thoughtful of you. Thank you.”
His eyes widen a fraction and I step closer. Placing my hands on his chest, I reach up on my toes to show him my gratitude. My lips graze his, and the fleeting contact is electric.
“What are you doing, Josephine?” Grasping my wrists, he draws his head back and forces me away from him. The stern look in his eyes is confusing. He’s denying me?
“I was thanking you.” I try to step into him again, but his firm hold ensures I keep my distance.
“You’re drunk,” he says, dismissing me entirely. What. The. Hell.
“Ransom, I’m not that drunk,” I protest.
“Well, then, I’m going to pretend that you are.” Dropping my wrists, Ransom turns his back on me and begins walking away.
“Ransom! Wait, don’t go!” Even though the voice inside my head suggests that I leave well enough alone, that this is the way it’s supposed to be, I can’t keep myself from running after him.
Once he reaches the front door, Ransom rounds on me. “What did you think was going to happen here tonight, Miss Hart?”
My jaw drops at the formality, and I flounder for words. “I—I don’t know. You’d stay the night maybe?”
His head drops to his chest and he shakes it in disbelief. “I’m your teacher. You’re my student.”
He was really going to pull this card on me? I understand the confusion. I feel it, too. But there is no sense in pretending that nothing has happened between us. He had his mouth on my nipples just days ago, and I know the taste of his cock well. Pretending none of it ever happened doesn’t mean it will just go away. I know. I tried. And look where it’s gotten me.
“Then why bring me home? Why come inside?” I challenge.
Scraping his hands through his hair, he lifts his gaze and I can see the war being waged inside him. “You’re a nice girl, Josephine. I knew you’d had too much to drink tonight, and when your friend asked me to do him a favor and take you home, I said yes. I was just trying to help.”