She shrugged but didn’t push my arm away. “I got what I needed.”
“You got nothing.” Again, I felt the need to explain that we needed to slow things down, just a tad. I was willing to take her to the moon and back, with more time. “Rylee, talk to me. What happened back there?”
“I got what I needed.”
This time I heard the hurt. She’d gone back to the same place I’d found her in when she was rocking in her workshop. I didn’t know what the hell had happened but hoped I hadn’t triggered something. Had I been too rough? Hell, no. She’d been the one in control. Had I rushed her to the room? Again, no. Rylee had been in control.
“I got what I needed. I got what I needed,” she repeated until her words became sobs. Another mistake on my part. Her eyes hadn’t been blank; they’d been trying to hold herself together.
“Rylee,” I soothed, dropping her arm to rub her back. I didn’t dare pull her into a hug but searched my brain for something to say. We’d been fine in the pub. Coming back to my room had been her idea. How the hell had it gone wrong?
“No.” She made a feeble attempt to twirl me away, but when I pulled her into my chest, she didn’t protest. “I got what I needed.”
“Rylee, babe, talk to me.”
“No. Just let me go.” Her words said one thing, but her body was now pressed into me. Not knowing what else to do, I held her, pressing her face until my chest became wet from her tears.
“Rylee, I’m not letting you leave like this. You’re not sober. I’m not sober.” Technically, she’d had two drinks in the hours I’d been watching over her. She might not be drunk but I didn’t want her to drive back to Meringa while upset.
“So?”
“Your friends left with their hook-ups. You’re not gonna be able to drive home like this.”
Since when was I the voice of reason? Luckily, the voice I used at training, or when mentoring errant and horny teenage boys came naturally.
“So?”
I chose to hear the question, not a statement. I chose to believe she wanted me to convince her.Think. Think. Think.
“Just come back. The bed’s big enough for two and we don’t have to do anything more.”
“You don’t need me messing up your life.”
“My life? I’m only talking about one night. I’m not gonna let you leave like this.”
By the time I’d finished talking, we were back in the hotel foyer. Rylee hadn’t seemed to notice when I’d turned her around and returned us to the scene of our crime.
The concierge gave Rylee a more concerned look than the judgment he shot my way. “Are you okay, miss? Do you want me to call you a cab?”
Rylee turned, seemingly shocked at her surroundings before slowly shaking her head.
Still clueless about what the hell just happened, at least she let me cradle her head to my chest as if she was a child. She allowed me to lead her into the elevator, then along the corridor, back to the room. Thank goodness I’d remembered the swipe key.
“It’s the maid’s day off,” I joked. Not trusting Rylee not to bolt again, I laced my fingers through one of her hands while rummaging through my bag, finding my old Spiderbait t-shirt and grey sweatpants.
Handing them over, I kissed her hand before releasing it and pushed her toward the bathroom. “Go. Have a shower if you want. Get changed. I know they’ll be too big on you but at least they’ll be comfortable.”
“But, what about you?”
“Sweetheart, I’ll be fine in either jeans or boxers, but I’m warning you—if you don’t get out of that skirt and boots, I’m not gonna be responsible for my actions.”
“Really?” Her question was more of a plea. Had the woman never seen herself in a mirror?
“Babe, you were the only woman in the bar.”
“My friends would disagree.”
“Your friends didn’t exist. There was only you. You frigging took my breath away when you crashed my car. You turned me inside out in those damn baggy work overalls. I haven’t been able to think of anything else since our kiss in your workshop.”