Page 30 of Can't Take My Eyes Off You

I hand him his toothbrush, then pull open one of his bathroom drawers. Will’s one of those guys who buys backups for his backups. This drawer is full of contact lenses, two pairs of the same glasses, two tubes of toothpaste and three unopened toothbrushes. I open one, tossing the garbage into the trash can.

‘I’ll join you because tequila breath is kinda rank too.’

‘You’ve been drinking?’ he asks, staring at me through the mirror, surprise on his face.

‘The show aired…’ I remind him.

‘I’m sorry, baby.’ He drags a hand over his face, dropping it to rest on the small of my back.

Tissue paper, meet water. I can already feel myself caving.

He laughs to himself for a long time, over absolutely nothing but whatever is going through his head, staring at me with heavy eyelids.

‘Imighttry to kiss you,’ he finally says. ‘Iwantto kiss you, Berkley.Bad. But I don’t want to use up our last relapse lay.’ He’s now behind me, pressed against me, his hands on my waist and his lips on my neck.

My heart literally flutters. There he is. My Will.

Here’s the thing about drunk Will. He’s not a happy drunk. He likes to throw out insults and fight. I’ve even heard Felicity talk about what a douche he is when he drinks. Will getting wasted is a truth pill no one in his life enjoys.

Then, when I show up, his bedroom door closes and it’s just the two of us, he turns into the sweetest man I know. He once again worships the ground I walk on and is so gentle and sweet that Iwantto be here because I see the guy that I knew. That’s why I keep doing this. I miss the Will he was, and right now, he’s here with me.

‘We’re supposed to be brushing our teeth, remember?’ I reach up and pat his cheek, leaning into him.

He grabs my hand, bringing it to his lips, staring at me, then at himself in the mirror, clearly not remembering what he’s supposed to be doing even though I just said it again.

I get both our toothbrushes ready, handing him his. He shoves it in his mouth, brushing his teeth slowly.

‘Ugh.’ He grimaces, nearly gagging. ‘It’s like brushing your teeth and drinking orange juice.’

‘Why areyoudrinking tonight?’ I ask, looking at him in the mirror.

‘Because the show aired and reminded me of what an ass-face I am,’ he slurs, now speaking around the toothbrush in his mouth.

‘You’renotan ass-face, Will – at least not completely.’

‘Yes, I am. You can say it.’ He’s now brushing his teeth in what seems to be slow motion as he desperately tries to stay awake. ‘Say it, baby. I deserve it.’

I heave a sigh. ‘Fine,’ I say. ‘You’re an ass-face,’ I tell him, throwing out my arms in frustration. ‘An ass-face Idon’twant to die on camera because he feels bad about the decisions he’s making in life.’

He spits the toothpaste into the sink, leaning over and drinking right from the faucet. I do the same, rinsing my toothbrush and putting it in his medicine cabinet, hoping no one else touches it.

‘Come on.’ I direct him out of the bathroom, his hand now in mine, towards his bed.

He strips off his shirt and stumbles through pulling off his pants before finally dropping onto his bed in just his underwear. He rolls like a drunk log to the middle, patting the side I usually sleep on, reaching for me.

‘I need you.’ He points at me obnoxiously. ‘Here.’ He stretches out an arm, pointing at it.

Fight it, Berkley. Tell him to sleep it off and go home.Or, ya know what? Don’t fight it. Let this be your last.

He stares at me, big brown eyes gazing up at me. Damn it, he’s handsome. I sigh. I did convince him to leave the roof by saying I’dstay, and he’s in no condition to be alone right now.

I slip off my flip-flops and climb into his king-sized bed with him. Fully clothed. And by fully clothed, I mean still in the short shorts and tank top I’ve been wearing all day. It’s not enough to ward off wandering hands. I’d have to be sewn into a snowsuit for that. As soon as I’m in his bed, he pulls me against him, kissing the top of my shoulder.

‘I’m sorry I’m an ass-face,’ he says into my ear. ‘To make it up to you, I did something for your birthday.’

‘Oh, God, what did you do?’

He rolls over onto his back, pointing at his chest.

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