Page 52 of Sweet and Salty

I reach for her, helping her out of the car. “I'm sorry I got out of hand,” she says, her lips shaping the saddest little pout I've ever seen as she leans heavily against me.

“Fuck that,” I say, slipping my arm around her hip and guiding her to her door. “You're never out of hand, Lyla,” I continue. “Now give me your keys.”

She digs in her purse before handing me her keys, her eyes fluttering open and closed as she leans against me. “No, Idefinitelygot out of hand. I shouldn't have had so much to drink. I don’t normally. I haven’t had a night off in months though.”

“You're allowed to have fun,” I assure her, unlocking her door and swinging it open before I swipe an arm beneath her knees and cradle her to my chest. “You're free to do whatever the fuck you want and anyone who says otherwise is an asshole.”

I walk us into her house, kicking the door shut behind us before I linger in the hallway.

She looks up at me with wide eyes, her arms around my neck. “Really?”

“Really,” I say. “Now, where's your bedroom?”

A beautiful flush dances over her cheeks and she visibly swallows before pointing toward the stairs. “Up and first one on the right.”

I'm surprised the little vixen doesn't sass me for carrying her up the stairs, but I imagine she's a little bit too inebriated to hang on to that fire she normally reserves just for me.

I effortlessly climb the stairs with her in my arms before turning into her bedroom. I need to get her safely into her bed before I can grab her some much-needed water and make sure she's okay before I get the hell out of here.

“I want you to tattoo me someday,” she says, shocking the hell out of me. I freeze two steps away from her bed. I turn my head to look down at her, lips parted?—

Her mouth crashes against mine, the kiss hot and needy and completely uninhibited. My eyes close automatically, and I hold her just a little bit closer as I return the kiss before coming to my fucking senses.

I draw back, chiding myself for returning the kiss when she's so drunk.

“Whoops,” she says, and bursts into a fit of giggles, her forehead dipping against my chest as she laughs.

Her laughter abruptly cuts off and she wiggles in my arms.

“Put me down.Now,” she demands.

I gently set her on her feet, and she races through her bedroom, disappearing behind a door—what I can only assume is her bathroom.

Ten seconds later I hear her getting sick.

I hiss, shaking my head before going back downstairs, raiding her fridge and thankfully finding a Gatorade. I grab a water bottle too, and head back up the stairs. Setting the items down on the nightstand next to her bed.

“Lyla,” I say through her closed bathroom door. “Can I come in?”

“No,” she says. “I'm mortified. Go away.” She mumbles the words and I hear the sounds of her toothbrush running as she brushes her teeth.

“There's nothing to be embarrassed about,” I assure her. “I can't just go away when I know you're sick. Can I please come in?”

“Ugh, fine,” she groans. “I can't get my stupid jacket off.”

I open the door, entering the bathroom timidly, doing my best to bite back a laugh when I see her struggling to get out of her jacket. I don't know how she's able to make looking angry as hell so damn adorable, but she does.

I move over to her, tugging on the fabric that's giving her trouble until her arms are free.

“Thank you,” she sighs, walking to her shower and turning on the water.

Heat spikes my blood at the idea of her climbing into that shower, but I keep my shit in check. She's in no condition for me to be thinking about her like that.

I move past her, double-checking the water temperature, and then whirl around when she starts getting undressed right there.

“Jesus, woman,” I groan.

“Oh, please,” she chides from behind me. “It's not like you haven't seen a thousand women’s bodies before,” she says. “I'm sure mine isn't even memorable. And I need to get into the shower likenow.”

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