Page 45 of Hale Yes
I can’t wait to tell Phoenix about this whole scene. He’ll probably be jealous he wasn’t here to witness it.
Once inside, I shift Nicolette to carry her over my shoulder since the staircases are narrow. She doesn’t rouse in the slightest. One of my arms wraps around her thighs while my other searches for an appropriate place to rest. I press my palm against her lower back to steady her, though my mind goes to a darker place. If she were awake and willing, that hand would be directly on the supple ass that’s pressed against the side of my head.
Stop it, Hale. She is fucking unconscious.
After trekking up the stairs, I locate her bedroom on the top floor and cross the room in the darkness to flick on the bedside lamp. I smile at her bedding. The duvet is a soft tangerine color in contrast to the crisp white of her sheets and pillowcases. Thebed is unmade, and I straighten the covers before laying her down and placing her purse on the nightstand.
Miraculously, she’s still fast asleep. She must have wine-induced narcolepsy. I’m not sure that’s actually a thing, but it should be. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I pull her feet into my lap and unbuckle her shoes before pulling them off. The Nobel committee really should award me some kind of commendation for not letting my eyes linger on the smooth thighs that are exposed in this position.
I roll her onto her side and look at her for a long moment, my eyes falling on the oxytocin tattoo. Then I lean over and do what I’ve wanted to do since she shared her reasons for getting it.
I hug her.
It’s chaste and not sexual at all, and I’m rewarded with a small sigh from her. When I release her and stand, I notice a contented smile on her sleeping face.
And that makes me smile too as I flip off the lamp and leave her room.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Yoga farts
Nicolette
I awaken slowly on Saturday morning and nestle my face against my pillow, noticing my red purse on the nightstand. It’s not my usual purse, but I’d taken it last night because it matched my cute shirt perfectly.
Memories of the evening begin to filter in… looking for the restaurant… Helix offering to take me to a “topless bar.” I laugh out loud at that. Luckily he found it hilarious as well. He’s surprisingly funny, nothing like the stoic man I’ve come to know in the lab these past few weeks. It was honestly the best time I’ve had with a man in a very long time, if ever.
And then I remember the wine.
“Shit,” I mutter. We drank a lot of sangria last night. I know better, but it was so delicious, and the vibe of the restaurant and Helix’s company compelled me to havejust one more tiny glass.
I sit up in the bed and smooth my curls back. I feel a little fuzzy-brained but otherwise fine. Wine never gives me ahangover. In fact, I usually feel great the morning after drinking wine, but maybe that’s because I sleep like a corpse. With a downward glance, I assess my appearance. I’m still in my clothes from last night, but my shoes are gone. Peering over the side of the bed, I see them lined up with sharp precision beside my nightstand.
Who put them there? And how did I get home and then up here to my room?
There’s only one reasonable answer, and it makes me cringe. Helix Hale… my freaking boss.
Dammit.I need to message him to apologize. Hopefully he won’t think I’m completely unprofessional for falling asleep in his car like a freaking wino. And I’m pretty sure I didn’t even make my bed yesterday.
Reaching for my purse, I find that my phone is dead, so I plug it in before climbing out of bed and heading down to the second level to make some coffee. When I get back upstairs with a cup of java in my hand, I see that I have a message from Helix.
Dr. Hale: How are you feeling today?
Nicolette: I’m fine. I need to apologize for my behavior last night.
I’m surprised when a message pops back immediately.
Dr. Hale: Why would you need to apologize?
Nicolette: I thought that would be obvious. I swear I’m not some wino who randomly passes out in her boss’s car. I’m really sorry, Dr. Hale.
Dr. Hale: I thought I told you to call me Helix.
Even through black-and-white words on a screen, the bossiness comes through as effectively as if he were saying the words to my face.Or growling them in my ear while he grips my throat and…
Whoaaa, Nelly. Where did that come from?
Shaking my head as if to ward off the evil, invading thoughts, I quickly change his name in my phone and reply again.
