“My condition isn’t your business, James.” I emphasized his name. It was the first time I’d used it.
His gaze was steady. “I intend for it to be my business.”
“You don’t want to date me, you said,” I told him.
He sighed. “It’s true. But I want other things. I at least want the chance to talk to you about what I do want.”
“So talk,” I told him.
“We will talk. When you’re sober. And when we have some actual privacy.”
I wagged a finger at him, then stood on my tiptoes to be sure he heard me as I spoke directly into his face. “That doesn’t sound like talking.” My words were slurred, and he visibly flinched.
He hated how drunk I was, I could tell. He had a real serious problem with it. My extremely drunk mind started to hatch up a drunk scheme to use that to my advantage. If he didn’t like drunk, I would show him some drunk behavior that would scare him off for good. I nodded at him, turning away. Just as soon as I went to the bathroom, I was gonna make him run the other way in a hurry.
I used the restroom. It was a sign of how drunk I was that I was proud when I used the bathroom successfully and without a mess.
I was washing up when Melissa came bursting through the door, looking excited. “Who is that gorgeous man?” she asked me breathlessly. She was the most animated I’d ever seen her without a man she liked in the room. Of course, that’s just because she happened to be talking about one right at that moment.
I didn’t have to ask who she was talking about. “That is Mr. Beautiful,” I said. I was going for a breezy tone, but I heard my voice, and knew it just sounded drunk and slurred.
I walked out before she could ask me anything else. James took my arm before I could even locate him. “Have you ever been so drunk that you can’t look yourself in the eyes when you see a mirror?” I asked him. It was a serious question. I was really that drunk. He just looked at me.
“Answer me, James,” I tried to order him.
“No,” he said immediately.
“Dance with me,” I told him. Time for operation ‘Hot Mess’. He hated drunk. I’d show him drunk.
“No,” he said firmly.
“Fine. Somebody’ll dance with me. Just you watch.” His hand tightened on my arm when I tried to walk away.
“No, they won’t. If you have to dance, it’ll be by yourself tonight.”
I gasped at him in outrage. I was momentarily distracted when we walked back out into the huge bar and found it had considerably less people than it had when we went in.
“Whats’appened to all the people?” I asked. My slur was getting more pronounced, but I couldn’t seem to help it. I looked at him. He just shrugged. “Is it that late?” I pondered, reaching into my small handbag for my phone. “Where’s ma’phone?” I mumbled.
“You left it at the bar,” he told me. I started to lurch in that direction. He stayed me, holding my phone in front of my face. “I grabbed it for you.”
I snatched it from him, glaring. I glanced at the face of it, pushing the front button to show the time. “S’only eight clock. Why d’ya spose everyone is leaving? Is something happening? Are they closing?”
His only answers were shrugs. His hands were in his pockets. I studied him, suddenly realizing how bored and detached he looked. I recalled what he’d said about only sticking around to make sure I got back in one piece. “You don’t have to stay here. I’m just fine.”
He pulled me against him suddenly. I stiffened, but he just pushed my cheek into his chest. “You’re an infuriating woman,” he said into my hair. I tried to shove away from him for that comment, but I couldn’t seem to budge him. “I would be happy to walk you back to your room, but I’m not leaving you here when you’re acting like this.”
“You don’t know anything about me. I may act this way all the time,” I said, but the words were muffled into his shirt.
He was wearing the softest T-shirt I’d ever felt. I was suddenly nuzzling against it. I realized that I hadn’t even seen what he was wearing. It wasn’t a suit, and I hadn’t even gotten a chance to check him out.
I pulled back, looking with fascination at his casual attire. His shirt was a navy V-neck T-shirt with a small pocket over the left side of his chest. Right over his nipple, I thought. It was fitted, showing off his sleek muscles. And it was sooo soft.
I started running my hands over it, and he didn’t stop me. He wore casual gray slacks with navy running shoes. He looked positively edible.
“Someday soon I’m going to tie you up and tease you just the way you’re teasing me right now, with no hope for release for at least a night.” His voice was soft and earnest. His words stilled my hands immediately. Apparently I wasn’t doing a great job of scaring him off. Yet.