Page 85 of Love Me Stalk Me
Hard.
Herlaugh rings out from the other side, muffled but unmistakable.
I scrub a hand down my face, forcing myself to back away, to put distance between me and the very, very stupid ideas forming in my head.
No way. Not tonight.
Not when she's drunk off her ass and stripping like it's my own personal test of restraint.
I turn back toward the living room, my pulse still pounding. Izzy's place is exactly what I expected and also nothing like I expected.
It's small, but it's comfortable. Cozy. The apartment has character—high ceilings typical of older Hoboken buildings, large windows that likely offer a view of the Manhattan skyline during the day. Family photos line the walls, many showing what must be her Italian family—brothers, parents, and an elderly woman who has to be the Nonna she mentioned.
It smells like her. Vanilla and coconut. Unmistakably Izzy.
And it's fucking with my head.
Because now I'm in her space.
Now I'm standing in her living room, looking at the blanket tossed over the couch, the half-read book on the coffee table. Now I'm too close, and she's just past that wall, stripping out of her dress and crawling into bed.
Jesus.
I need to get out of here.
But, the universe hates me because as soon as I have that thought, I hear her call out my name, as clear as day.
I step into her bedroom, and she's already half-buried under the covers, blinking up at me, completely boneless.
"You should sleep with me," she slurs.
My brain misfires.
I just stare at her.
"What?"
"Sleep with me," she repeats, patting the bed. "You're all big and warm. It'll be nice."
Big and warm.
Jesus Christ.
"No," I say, far too quickly.
She pouts again. "Why not?"
Because I'm already walking a razor's edge with you, sweetheart.
Because I already can't stop thinking about how soft you are, how good you feel pressed against me.
Because if I get in that bed with you, I won't sleep.
Because I will think about touching you allfucking night.
"I'm not leaving you alone like this," I say instead. "But I'll sleep on the couch."
She blinks at me, slow and drowsy. Then, to my absolute fucking horror, she smiles.
