Page 129 of Cherry Beats

I shook my head. “Don’t. It’s fine.”

“You know I can see you two through the reflection of this big ass window, right?” Rhett grumbled.

Maybe Rhett was tired. Maybe he was having a bad day. Maybe he was sick of this becoming the Presley and Tessa show. I couldn’t blame him.

Looking up at Presley, I spoke so they both could hear me. “I’m going to go to bed. Why don’t you two have a nightcap together before you follow me, hey?”

“What the fuck?” Presley mouthed at me.

I raised both brows, urging him to go to his friend. “A little whiskey might help you sleep better.” Reaching up on tiptoes, I whispered in his ear, “I think your friend needs a friend.” Then I placed a kiss on his cheek and turned to leave, unable to ignore the way Presley’s hand lingered on my fingers as I tore away and walked to our room.

Real life had to go on in the midst of the fairy tale.

Friendships mattered. Without them, Presley or Rhett could never survive this life.

Once inside our room, I undressed, showered, brushed my teeth, and climbed into our ridiculously comfy bed wearing nothing more than my underwear and one of Presley’s T-shirts to keep me warm as I sank my head into the pillow and waited.

Time escaped me in this life. I had no idea what day we were on, never mind how long we had until sunrise. All I did know was that Presley didn’t arrive back an hour later.

Not two hours after, either.

By the time I felt him crawling onto the bed beside me, I was groggy from the sleep that had dragged me under, my eyes refusing to open properly against the early morning light that was starting to filter into the room.

“Let me taste you,” he purred, his lips close to my cheek and the rich smell of alcohol washing over me.

“What time is it?”

“Play time.”

“Presley,” I groaned, my mind fuzzy, and my body exhausted.

He trailed a hand down the valley of my waist, finding the edge of his T-shirt on me and pushing his fingers up and over my skin to the curve of my breast.

“You’re so warm,” he whispered. “I love that you’re always warm.”

I moved under his touch, rolling onto my back despite the bone-deep tiredness that ran through me. With his fingers making goosebumps rise all over my body, it was only a matter of seconds before I was ready to give myself to him.

But Presley swayed above me, his eyes narrowed and glazed as he fell to one side, catching and holding himself upright on his elbow when he looked up at me and smiled that dopey smile of his.

If I hadn’t been so concerned, it would have been adorable.

“Are you okay?” I dared myself to ask.

Presley rolled his head, that blonde hair I loved so much hanging over his face as he closed his eyes and huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah.” He chuckled groggily.

I reached over to push the hair away from his face so I could see him clearly. Even hammered, he was hot as Hell, but when you love someone the way I loved Presley, looks only go so far to diluting your concerns for them, and right then, all I wanted to do was lie him down and tell him to sleep. “I call bullshit.”

“Did you j’say bullshit?” he slurred. “So feisty.”

“I take it you and Rhett finished that bottle of Jack?”

“Think he finished two.” He hiccupped.

“How is he notdead?”

“High tolerance.”

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