Page 7 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

“You should let me down,” I slur, hating how good he smells. Seriously. It’s delicious. Like aftershave and sweat. But not gross sweat. Good sweat. I didn’t know there was good sweat until this moment. But it’s official. There’s such a thing as good sweat. Clean sweat. And I want to wrap myself up in it. Not to mention the view. Hello, tushy, tush. I kind of want to pinch it, bite it, and smack it all at once. Maybe if I do, he’ll even put me down.

Now that’s what I call a win-win.

“Well, this is just great,” a familiar feminine voice announces as Theo steps inside the Taylor House. “I swear I only left her for five minutes. But then Colt punched Logan and––”

“I get it,” Theo replies as I turn my head toward the voice and find a very upside down roommate staring back at me.

“Mia! My mama Mia!” I snort. “Get it? Mama Mia? It’s such a great movie.”

“She’s totally gonna puke in Ash’s car,” Mia mutters. She turns on her heel toward the front door. “Come on––”

“I need to pee,” I announce.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, the keys dangling from her other hand, Mia sighs while Theo takes a sharp turn toward the bathroom on the main floor.

My legs feel like overcooked noodles as he sets me down on the gray tile. I grab his arm to keep from falling over, vertigo practically assaulting me. Seriously. It’s official. This is the most drunk I’ve ever been, and I’m gonna be miserable tomorrow.

Nice move, Blake.

“Can you pee on your own?” Theo grumbles. I swear, the bastard isn’t even trying to hide his annoyance.

Rude.

Although, it is an excellent question.

Can I pee on my own right now?

I gulp, my stomach knotting as the alcohol settles inside of me, then nod at him.

Unconvinced, he stays close, eyeing me like I’m a ticking time bomb. “You sure?”

“Yup,” I lie, giving him a thumbs up with my hand not currently digging into his arm to hold myself upright.

He grabs my wrist and removes my death grip on his bicep but makes sure I have my balance somewhat steady before he lets me go and steps away from me. “I’ll be outside.”

The door closes behind him with a quiet click.

I don’t know how long I’m in the bathroom, but I do know it's spinning. Round and round, like I’m on a carousel, when I’m most definitely sitting on the toilet with my thong around my ankles and my dress pooled around my waist.

Classy, I know.

I shouldn’t have had the last drink.

Damn you, Burrows. You’re too good at Beer Pong.

“Bad idea, Blake,” I scold myself, resting my head in my hands with my elbows perched on my knees as I close my eyes.

A soft knock echoes from the door, and my head lolls to the side.

“Who is it?” I sing.

“Blake,” a familiar low voice barks.

“Who is it?” I repeat a little louder this time while dropping the song.

“Unlock the door, Blake. Now.”

I locked the door?

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