Ryan Hunter Page 7

  “I’ll carry her to my room, Mitchell. You can grab her when you go. Or come back for her in the morning.” Or…don’t come back at all and just leave her with me.

  “You sure?” Yep, he didn’t trust me at all.

  “Yes. Go dance with Cloey or she’ll pester me next.”

  He looked at Summers, and she flashed a radiant smile at him. All right! The battle was won. Mitchell handed Liza into my care. If she’d been my best friend, I wouldn’t have done that.

  Savoring every second of cuddling Liza to my chest, I carried her upstairs. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and suddenly her head rested on my shoulder. I briefly closed my eyes and my jaw tightened as I struggled to stay cool.

  “You don’t like dancing with Cloey?” she murmured.

  I touched my cheek to her brow. “Would you?”

  “I don’t like her, period.”

  That was obvious. “And I know exactly why that is.”

  “Really?”

  I just wanted to tell her that everybody knew how she was in love with my buddy, but she distracted me when her nose brushed against my neck and she inhaled deeply. “You smell good,” she said in her lovely jag, and I knew that without the strawberries I would have never heard this from her lips.

  It made me happy and made me laugh, and though I would have loved to get her into a conversation where she could tell me all the other things she might like about me, I knew it was wrong, because she would hate me for it tomorrow. If she even remembered it then. “Time to go to bed, Matthews.”

  Opening the door to my room with Liza in my arms wasn’t an easy thing, but I managed it with my elbow and carried her over to my wide bed underneath the window. Before I laid her down, I pressed her a little tighter with the intention that whatever else happened, I’d always remember this wonderful moment where I held the girl I had loved for years for the very first time.

  When she snuggled up in my pillow and sniffed like she couldn’t get enough of the scent on it, I smiled to myself. I pulled her shoes off, covered her bare legs with the quilt, then squatted down beside her, staring at her sweet, pale face. “You comfortable?”

  Her eyes were closed as she made a made a whiny face. “I’m not sure. But can you check if my head sprouted rotor blades?”

  I stroked her soft straight hair, brushing the long bangs from her forehead. “No rotor blades, baby,” I whispered so low that she couldn’t hear. A little louder I said, “That will go away when you sleep. If you need anything, the light switch is right in front of your nose and the bathroom is next door on the left.”

  She didn’t reply or move. I was afraid she’d already fallen asleep without hearing the most important information when one was drunk and sick. As much as I adored this girl, I’d rather she didn’t puke in my bed. “Did you hear me?”

  Her mouth curved into a strained grin. “Light, nose. Toilet, left. Gotcha.” She even gave me a thumbs-up, which reassured me.

  I rose from the floor, but just when I wanted to walk away, she said my name. “Hunter?”

  Hunkering down again, I leaned my forearms on the mattress. “Hm?”

  She dragged a deep sigh. “Sorry about the pool game.”

  Yeah, I know you are. But I am not. The way our gazes had met across that table was special. Way too intimate to be brushed off as harmless flirting. I let my glance move around me, scanning the familiar things in my room, then I looked back at her, the one thing that was totally unfamiliar in here. She made everything complete for me.

  Gently, so as not to wake her up again, I stroked her warm cheek with the back of my fingers. “Sleep tight, princess.”

  Chapter 6

  WITH MY THOUGHTS continuously drifting back to my room and the one person who lay in there right now, I went back down to the party. If only it was possible to kick everyone out right now, end the night early, and return to Liza. I wouldn’t take advantage of her drunkenness. I wouldn’t put any moves on her. The only thing I would do was sit by her side all night and look at her beautiful face.

  But then I’d gotten so much out of this night already. We’d flirted and she had hugged me when I carried her upstairs. She’d told me that I smelled good. Gee, I was a seriously lucky guy tonight.

  When I sauntered back into the poolroom without any drinks, the boys wanted to know where I had been so long. I told them I had to take care of a drunken guest, but I didn’t let slip who it was or where I had taken her. Justin was the only exception. I filled him in on everything when the two of us hung out in front of the house to cool off after a couple more beers.

  Tony came out with Cloey tucked under his arm. “Cool party, Hunter,” he told me. “We’re off. Do you think I should take Liza home with me?”

  “Nah, let her sleep. She’s all right up there. I don’t think being woken up now and riding in a car is what she needs or wants.”

  He nodded, and Cloey seemed more than relieved about his decision to leave Liza with me. And so was I. When the two left, Justin clinked his bottle against mine and flashed a grin so typical of the Andrews boys. “Seems like this is your lucky night. Why are you not upstairs?”

  I took a swig, wondering the same thing. “Because I’m a gentleman.”

  Justin laughed at that, and I swallowed the rest of the beer in one go. The truth was that I must be an idiot. And I hated not being with Liza right now.

  The party went on for a couple more hours but was abruptly over when Veronica Malloy threw up on the floor in the hall. Her friends helped me clean up the mess—or maybe they did all the work because by that time I could hardly keep myself upright. Beer, in combination with Claudia’s wine cooler was a very bad thing. But heck, the strawberries were a tasty addition.

  When everybody had left, I dragged myself upstairs and into my room. The door slammed shut behind me. I didn’t care about being loud, because my mom and dad were still out and I was the only one in this big, dark house. In the silence, my ears still rang from the loud music, and my head felt like a truck had run over it.

  “Hunter?”

  Holy shit, I nearly jumped out of my skin. There was someone in my room. The voice sounded familiar, and if my head didn’t hurt so badly, I probably would have recognized it in the first instant. Now I tried to focus on the girl sitting on my bed in the darkened room. Liza? Memories came back in a blurred vision. Good memories.

  “You’re still here?” I drawled, unable to believe my luck. Unbuttoning my shirt, I kicked my shoes into the corner and flung the shirt on them.

  “Where is here exactly? And why are you undressing?” She sounded very uncomfortable and rubbed her temples.

  “Well, for one, this is my room. And second, that thing you’re lying on is my bed. Since I don’t usually sleep in clothes, I figured I’d just take them off.” Duh.

  “Is the party over?”

  No, baby, the party begins now. I sneered at the beautiful creature waiting for me just a few feet away. But then I realized she probably meant the previous party, and my shoulders slumped. “Someone puked on the floor. Yeah. Party’s over.” And here I stood, totally regretting that I’d had way too much to drink tonight. I should have stayed sober and enjoyed this moment without a subway tunneling through my brain. “I swear, next time Claudia brings her strawberry soda, I’m going to kick a girl’s butt for the first time in my life. Harmless, my ass.”

  Liza groaned. “What time is it?”

  “Three.”

  “A.m.?”

  No need to get hysterical. “It’s dark outside. Of course it’s a.m.”

  Suddenly, she was out of my bed, on the floor and crawling around. It happened so fast, I could only stay rigid and watch.

  “Where are my shoes?” she croaked, patting the floor.

  What did she need shoes for? I wanted to tell her to get back into that bed and just snuggle up to me like she’d done when I carried her in. But she didn’t look like she wanted that, too, when she got to her feet again. “What are you doing?�
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  “Going home!”

  “Oh-woe.” Not going to happen. I had to do something to stop her from leaving. We weren’t done with each other. I wanted more cuddling, goddammit! Think fast. Make her stay. While thinking itself was hard enough, coming up with something quickly was next to impossible. For a start, I placed my hands on her shoulders and pushed her down onto the mattress. “So not a good idea,” I told her. “Since we already agreed that it’s the dead of the night…and you’re sixteen…and drunk—”

  “Drunk? No.”

  All right, she was in the denial stadium, which was totally fine with me, because I was way past that stadium and knew what was really going on. “Whatever. I can’t let you do that.”

  “Do what?”

  Yeah, what? “Walk alone.”

  She frowned. “You want to come with me?”

  Hell, yes! But not tonight. Because she would only send me home and I’d be down on my luck. I sat down next to her and tried to focus on her eyes that gleamed nicely in the moonlight shimmering through the window. “It’s a mile and a half to your house. That’s three for me to walk. I’m positive I won’t make that tonight. So if you really want to go home, I’ll have to drive you. But right now, I’d rather not.” I was drunk, but fortunately I wasn’t an idiot.

  “So what do I do now?” She looked every bit helpless and lovely.

  “I’d say lay back. Sleep. And worry about everything tomorrow.”

  “What about you?”

  I will lay back, won’t sleep, and stare at you until the morning. If she let me sleep next to her, that was. But how to convince her? “The floor is hard. And I’m beat. There’s room for two in that bed…”

  She looked at me for an intense second, then she suddenly dropped back onto the pillow without another word. Either she was just weird, or she was getting sick. However, that she didn’t say I’d have to sleep on the floor lifted my spirit. “Good choice, Matthews,” I mumbled and settled down beside her.

  Right then, I was aware of every inch of her that touched me. Her left fist was curled under her chin and pressed against my shoulder, our legs touched the entire length, and if I moved my arm just a little, I’d be holding her hand. Oh my fucking God. It would take just so little to roll on top of her and make her mine.

  I took a deep steadying breath and wondered if she had the tiniest idea of how much effort it cost an eighteen-year-old guy to rein in so much testosterone. But I did—for now. And only because I wanted to be fully aware of all my senses when I kissed Liza Matthews.

  Tilting my head to her side, I let her know through a smirk exactly how I felt. Then I growled, “I swear you’re safe with me for the next three to six hours. I can’t make promises for any time after that, though.”

  I wasn’t sure if she was aware of the small smile that just slipped to her lips. She gazed into my eyes for a moment longer, then her pretty eyes closed. It didn’t take long until her breathing became even, evidence of her being asleep.

  Hard to say for how much longer I studied her that night. I had lost my sense of time. But when I couldn’t hold my eyes open any longer, I was positive that every little detail of her beautiful face was edged into my memory. The three freckles on the tip of her nose, the fact that the right bow of her upper lip was just a tad higher than the left, her long lashes that rested on her cheekbone when her eyes were closed. She smelled like my mom’s roses and her hair felt like fine sand running through my fingers.

  I fell asleep with one thought. This girl was mine. She just didn’t know it yet.

  The next thing I knew I lay on my back in what seemed to be my bed, and someone’s eyes were fixed on me. My arm was draped over my eyes, so I couldn’t see, but the awareness ran from the back of my neck down to the very tips of my toes.

  However long ago, this wasn’t the first time that I woke up with a girl in my bed. But for once, I had no memory of whatsoever had happened last night, and who I had taken up to my room with me. It was a weird feeling, especially since we seemed to have taken on quite an entangled position from all I could tell.

  “I can feel you staring at me,” I said, without turning or taking my arm away from my eyes.” The warm hand that had rested on my chest snapped away. “I only hope you’re a girl and not one of the drunken guys.” I reached down to the leg that was draped over my hip. Wow, that leg was naked and satiny soft. “Yep, definitely female.”

  I wondered how much more naked skin I would find if I ran my palm upwards. Unfortunately, I didn’t get very far, because the girl’s hand caught mine in a tight grip and held it in place.

  “Move another inch, Hunter, and you’re a dead man.”

  Okay, if someone could stab me in the eye right now, so I’d know I wasn’t dreaming. It was the most wonderful sound to wake up to, and totally surreal to hear it in my room, especially next to my ear when I lay in my bed. I laughed softly. “Matthews?”

  Oh glorious morning, so much for getting Liza into my bed before the week was over.

  She didn’t reply, but then she didn’t have to. I knew it was her, could tell by her sweet scent. Our hands were still joined on her thigh, and it didn’t seem she was going to let go of me any time soon.

  It was time to open my eyes and take a peek at what I had done last night. Dropping my arm to the pillow above my head, I turned toward her and instantly took in that she was fully dressed, even though I only seemed to be wearing my jeans. I most definitely hadn’t popped her cherry, which I was unspeakably glad for, because I couldn’t remember a thing. But that didn’t mean she had to be so abrasive. “Tell me, Matthews. Why do I have you in my bed, when I’m not allowed to touch you?”

  She looked at me for a stunned second, then her face crinkled to a grimace. “I didn’t know there were strawberries in the soda.”

  Right. And that meant what? “Come again?”

  “Someone was getting me sweet soda all evening.” Her voice didn’t sound really steady, and her gaze kept drifting down to her naked thigh, that I still had my hand on. “I didn’t realize it was the wine cooler you meant when you said—”

  “Not to touch the strawberries.” Heck, now I remembered. Claudia’s wine cooler was the reason why Liza lay in my bed, with her sexy calf resting in my groin. Unfortunately, it was also the reason why I couldn’t remember much of the previous night. “Damn, I told her not to punch it too much,” I muttered. Then I studied Liza’s face for a sign that I should be worried this morning. “Sorry, I don’t remember much of the night after I carried you up here. Am I in trouble?”

  “As far as I remember you were pretty drunk yourself. So I was quite safe from you.”

  That she had been. But I was clear in my head now, and having her laying half on top of me gave me pretty cool, maybe X-rated thoughts. Her smooth skin tempted me to stroke and explore, and I started to run my thumb in small circles over her thigh. “I’m afraid my time of numb indifference is over. So, unless you’re up for some trouble now, would you mind moving your leg?”

  Her eyes grew wide at that, and she clearly didn’t know how to respond.

  “What?” I gave her a tentative smirk. “You know you’re not the ugliest girl in the world.”

  Somehow, that didn’t go down so well with her, because the next thing I knew she pushed aside my bent leg, with which I had trapped hers in place, and rushed out of my bed. She was crazy, or maybe just not used to a hangover, but it was clear she’d suffer a head-rush any second, and I didn’t want her to black-out in my room. I got up with her and, before she had a chance to fall, I cupped her elbows.

  She took a second to steady, then she look up at my face.

  “Feel better?” I asked.

  “Not really.” She slipped out of my hold and grabbed her shoes from the end of the bed where I had put them last night, if I remembered it right.

  I gave her a minute to put them on then headed downstairs, knowing she’d follow me. The tiled floor felt cold against my bare feet. I needed that now to se
ttle down my boiling blood.

  “Hey, Ry,” someone called from the hall as we came down the stairs.

  “Morning, Chris,” I said back and found him sprawled on a sofa. His look when he realized who was trotting down after me was hilarious.

  As we reached the bottom of the stairs, Liza wanted to take a turn for the front door, but I couldn’t let her slip out like that. Without a goodbye and some advice on dealing with a hangover. Taking her hand—and damn, yeah, that was a good feeling—I pulled her into the kitchen where I handed her a water bottle with an aspirin dissolving.

  Standing rigid in the middle of the room, she sniffed the water but didn’t drink.

  “Why so skeptic, Matthews? It will help your headache.” I said as I leaned against the counter and took a swig of my own sobering drink.

  The sip she took then would have been hardly enough to drown an ant.

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “How could I?” she answered. “I woke up with a hangover from a soda and with an equally drunk person sleeping next to me half of the night.”

  Ouch. “Yeah, sorry about that. I don’t usually get drunk at my own parties.” Not from beer, anyway. “And believe me I’m going to get a piece of Claudia for messing with the wine cooler.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Look, as long as you keep hydrated today, you’ll be fine.”

  She massaged her temples, and didn’t look one bit like she believed the headache would ever go away again. “It feels like someone installed a construction site in my head.”

  “Oh yeah, I know the feeling.” It was like I invented it. But the aspirin usually worked wonders. “If you give me a minute to shower, I’ll drive you home.”

  “No!” she blurted and shocked the hell out of me. Or maybe it was just disappointment, because she made it sound like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough. At the same time, her face scrunched up, and she winced. Then she said in a softer tone, “No thanks. I’ll be happy to take the walk and sober up before meeting my parents. My mom will freak out.”