Page 136 of When The Night Falls

‘That makes two of us,’ I mumbled amusedly.

‘You’re – Cara – fuck...I’m honestly speechless.’ His voice was almost a whisper.

‘I should warn you, though,’ I said and ran my fingers through his hair. ‘I’m not familiar with dating. I’ve never really done it before, so you’ll have to cut me some slack. You’ll need to be patient with me.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ he said and stole a tender kiss. ‘You won’t regret this.’

I hoped with all my heart that he was right.

Rolling off me, he pulled me into a spooning position. His erection pressed against my bum, but since he made no further advances, I was confused.

‘What are you doing?’ I asked, and I couldn’t hide my disappointment.

‘I don’t fuck drunk women unless they’re my girlfriend.’

An abundance of heat claimed my face. ‘Seriously?’

‘Yes. Why do you think I told you not to get drunk the night we met?’

‘Will, you have my utter consent.’

‘Not happening. Matter of principle.’

‘But you’ll take my word regarding whether I’ll date you or not?’

‘I’ll take what I can in that regard.’

‘But you fingered me at the club!’

‘Yeah, but that was the exception to the rule.’

‘Then make another exception.’

‘No. The scene at the club was different. I was a bit drunk myself then. Now I’m essentially sober, so it wouldn’t feel right. I don’t like having sex with someone who’s drunk. Just sits wrong with me – the consent is so blurry in a way, like I’m taking advantage.’

I frowned. ‘So you never have sex with somebody if they’re drunk?’

‘Only if they’re my girlfriend, because I feel surer about their consent, then. So, if you want drunk sex, you’ll need to be my girlfriend. This is a boyfriend level request you’ve made. If you’d like to upgrade your subscription, you’ll have to go on several dates with me.’

I moaned with frustration. ‘You bastard. Do you have any idea how aroused I am right now?’

He laughed smugly. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you. Until then, you can dream about us having sex instead. I do it all the time.’

I blushed. ‘Oh my God, Will.’

‘Not even slightly ashamed of admitting that.’

‘You’re not right in the head.’ I chuckled. ‘Then again, I’m guilty of the same.’

He tensed against me. ‘Have you dreamt about me too? Actually?’

‘Far too many times. Night, Will.’

‘Sweet dreams, then,’ he said complacently.

22 | better luck next time

Last night was a hazy memory, ripped into bits and pieces. The club. William. The spot under the stairs. Kissing. His fingers inside me. Tequila. Vomiting.

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