Page 39 of Maybe You

Or maybe this is my street?

But no. Nothing here looks even remotely familiar.

“Where are we?” I ask, turning to Sutton.

He looks at the building on his left with a frown and then at me before he points to the building he was just eyeing.

“I live here.”

“Oh!” This makes sense. I guess we’re having a house party. Another first for me. “Ooh! We can keep the fun going. Can we get some more drinks? Because we should definitely drink some more.”

“Let’s get you upstairs first.”

His hand is still in mine as he leads me to the elevators. I watch the floor numbers change above the doors and snort out a laugh.

“What?” he asks.

“Those numbers are moving really fast.”

He stares at me for a moment before he shakes his head. “Christ, you’re a lightweight,” he says.

“I’ve never been drunk,” I say when he pulls me into the elevator, my palm still against his. “You have big hands.”

He looks down at where his hand is wrapped around mine and blinks like it’s the first time he’s realizing he’s holding my hand. His startled expression makes me laugh again.

The elevator doors open, and we get out. He maneuvers me to the door on our left, unlocks it, and gently pushes me inside.

“Do you have a bar in here?”

“A what?” he asks distractedly while he pushes me to sit down on the bench by the door and starts unlacing my sneakers.

“A bar,” I repeat. “You said you’re rich, so do you have all those extra rooms? Like a home theater and a gym and a spa?”

“No?” he says slowly.

“Huh. Well, that’s disappointing. So no bar either, then?”

“I don’t think more booze is what you need right now.”

I frown at him while he takes off my shoes. “But what about the drinks you promised?”

He pushes my sneakers underneath the bench and gets up.

“I have some excellent water.”

He ignores the face I make at him, and a moment later I find myself in the bedroom, at the foot of his bed. He goes out of the room and comes back a few seconds later with a tall glass of water he holds out for me.

“This is not the kind of party I had in mind,” I inform him as I take the glass. I sit down on the edge of the bed and dutifully drink the water though, because he’s standing in front of me, arms crossed, eyeing me like a stern parent.

I hand the empty glass back and while he goes to put it away, I lie down on my back and close my eyes. I’m not sure what kind of rich-people mattress I’m dealing with here, but it’s insanely soft. So soft that my whole body seems to sink into it. I turn my head to the side and rub my cheek against the sheets. Also soft. And they smell good. This whole bed smells good.

A snort of laughter from somewhere above me makes me open one eye and peer up.

“What?” I ask.

“It looks like you’re having a moment with the bed. Want me to leave the two of you alone for a bit?”

I yawn and close my eyes again. “You laugh, but I would show this bed a good time. I’d let it do things to me.”

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