So Toxic(Bad Boy Next Door Book 4)(141)

I guess I got lucky that I don’t have two guys sleeping it off on my living room floor. Ron or Ralph or—Oh, Rex…he went over to crash at Adam’s place. I think. I hope.

Why is it that drinking always makes people love everyone they see? Or hate them. I guess it works both ways.

He loves me. My ass, he loves me.

He wouldn’t have ignored my texts for so long if he loved me. Would he?

I shove my feet under the sheet, yanking the covers to my chin. Crossing my arms over the blanket, I close my eyes.

I twitch. I itch. I scratch. I roll to the left. To the right.

I open my eyes.

I stare at the darkened ceiling.

Wonder if he’s cold? The temperature for the air conditioner is set kind of low.

No. He deserves to be cold.

Drunken dumbass.

Then again, he’d make sure I was comfortable. He always does.

I let out a sigh and throw the covers off.

After I dig out an extra pillow and blanket from the top of the linen closet, I tiptoe into the living room.

Adam sprawls across the floor. His face is relaxed. The scratches Chloe marked him with are dark, while the scar on his chin seems to have all but disappeared, hidden in the shadows, with the nightlight casting its glow over him.

My heart hitches.

He’s so perfectly gorgeous.

I push a pillow under his head.

He mutters, “I wanna be the one.”

I slip the blanket over his muscular form, softened somehow with sleep.

His nostrils flare, and he tosses his head to the side. “You gotta believe me.”

I tuck the covers under his arms.

As I pull away, his big hand grabs my wrist. I tug, but he won’t let go.

“Don’t leave.”

“Adam?” I whisper.

Is he even awake?

His voice softens. “Please don’t leave me.”

I lean in to kiss his forehead. “I’m going to bed.”

Adam pushes the covers aside and drags me down next to him. “Stay.”

He entwines his arms and legs with mine as he pulls me closer. I swallow the heated knot in the back of my throat as I relax against his body.

God, I’ve missed these arms.

My back has longed for his chest to be pressed hard against it. I’ve craved the feel of him wrapped around me—and the way he warms my soul.

I’ll stay here for a little while. He’ll let go of me soon, and I’ll sneak away. But, for the moment, it won’t hurt if I soak this up—a bonus chance to have him hold me for the last time.

The tears blur my vision, so I blink them away. A couple of renegades escape and make a path down my cheek. I pull in a shuddering breath.

I can’t let him get to me. Just because he thinks he wants me, doesn’t mean he does.

And my wanting him isn’t enough to make this work.

A baby is a lot of stress on a relationship. Trying to make it work because of one would be asinine.

I have to be strong. For me and for Clarissa. And this baby.

And I will.

I’ll be strong.

Tomorrow.


* * *

Adam’s fingertips glide along my arm. My head rests on his bicep, and his breaths keep rhythm with mine. I keep my eyes closed.

A minute longer—then I’ll stop him. I’ll give myself this moment of bliss before it’s ruined.

I steel myself for another bad day and crack my lids.

A beady little eye hangs from a string and stares me down. I try to pull back, but there’s nowhere to go since I’m already on my back, and the critter keeps coming closer.

“Good morning, Larry Bear.” I push the one-eyed teddy away.

Clarissa sits astride Adam’s belly, still in her jammies, her bear in her clutches as she bounces and giggles.

He pulls his arm from beneath me and picks her up, lifting her high. Her legs bicycle in the air, but she throws her arms out to the sides like an airplane and grins down on us.

He swings Clarissa over his head, setting her down on the carpet. “All right, Pipsqueak. Let’s give your mom a minute to wake up. How about you and me go get some breakfast started?”

Breakfast? “Aren’t you hung over?”

He rolls to me and kisses my temple. His face is a scratched up mess, and his nose has bite marks on both sides.

“Hangovers are for puss—” His eyes dart to Clarissa. “Um, wimps.”

I grin. “It’s not like she’s going to repeat it. But, thank you for being mindful of little ears.”

He hops up and allows Clarissa to drag him to the kitchen as though he wasn’t in this very spot last night, drunk as hell and declaring his love for me right before he passed out. No hangover. No headache.

My stomach clenches and convulses.

Oh. Shit.

I clamp my hand over my mouth and make a run for the toilet.

Well, I guess I’ll have his hangover for him.

I take my time in the bathroom, even after the nausea passes and I’m cleaned up.