Braxton’s heart began to beat faster. He’d just won the million-dollar lottery—Alissa had asked him out. “Sure, I’d love to do it again. Next weekend? How about dinner and a movie or something?”
“Perfect” Alissa leaned toward him before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Now, get her home and feel free to call me this week sometime.” She pulled a pen from her purse and scribbled her number on the back of a grocery receipt, and then tucked it into the small storage spot below the dash.
Alissa opened the passenger-side door and stepped out. She ran up the sidewalk, then took the stairs two at a time until she reached the landing for her floor. With a quick wave, she smiled and then disappeared.
Braxton sat hunched over, looking out the passenger-side window even after Alissa had disappeared. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. Maybe he hoped she would change her mind, run down the stairs, jump back into the car and beg him to take her back to his place. He was lost in that daydream until he heard a soft whimper from the back seat, pulling him back to reality.
Paisley whispered into the night air, “Not her. Please, not her.”
Braxton had no idea what she was talking about. Was she having a bad dream of some sort? She continued to mumble random thoughts the rest of the drive back to her place.
“Time to get you to bed,” Braxton called out as he turned the key in the ignition. He put the car in drive and headed toward Paisley’s apartment.
When they arrived, he, of course, couldn’t wake her. She was out like a light. Braxton was left with no other choice than to pull her from the back seat and with her in his arms he carried her to her door. Unsure what to do once he reached it, he attempted to set her down briefly using his leg to support her body as he reached into the pocket of her jeans to retrieve her house keys. Her hips began to sway slightly as her center began to rub against his thigh. A soft moan flew from her lips. It surprised him a bit, but her words shocked him.
“Touch me, Brax.”
Braxton’s head snapped up to find Paisley awake. Her eyes were blazing with lust. That wasn’t how they looked at each other. They’d been friends, best friends, forever and they’d never looked at each other that way. They didn’t think about each other in that way.
“What did you say, Paisley?” Braxton’s brows furrowed in confusion.
“Your hand in my pocket.” Paisley glanced to where it was still resting, sending warmth through her clothing.
When Braxton didn’t respond, her hips rocked against him, her center sliding up and down on his leg. Electricity zapped through Braxton when he felt her heat through her jeans and his. He was slightly aroused by the sensation, but he chalked it up to the lust he was still feeling for Alissa.
Braxton quickly snatched his hand back clutching the keys. Pushing Paisley’s body away from his own but not far enough that she would fall. Holding up the keys, he shook them once before he unlocked the front door and opened it.
Paisley slid past him, not paying attention to the threshold, and began to trip. He reached out for her, pulling her to him to keep her from falling to the ground.
She looked at him with heat and desire burning in her eyes. This time her breasts were pressing against his chest, firmly ensuring that he felt how hard her nipples were beneath her shirt. Her lips were slightly parted, and Braxton couldn’t look away as her tongue darted out slowly and ran along her top lip.
When she spoke, her declaration was loud and clear. “I want you, Brax.”
He was about to tell her that she was just drunk, but her lips crashed against his, her arms wrapping around his neck. Her tongue tried to push between his slightly parted lips, but as fast as he possibly could, his hands grasped for hers and he untangled her arms from around his neck. Then he forced her back, breaking the unreciprocated kiss.
As awkward as the moment was, Braxton didn’t want to hurt his friend or their friendship. “I think it’s time you climb into bed, alone, and sleep the alcohol off.”
Paisley shoved away from his body, shifted right some, and stumbled forward, putting distance between Braxton and herself. She appeared to say something but then turned and fled as best she could toward the bathroom.
The sound of retching reached him before he could make it to the bathroom door. Paisley’s tiny body convulsed with each projection of bile that left her body. When she was finally through, and nothing had been expelled from her for at least ten minutes, she laid limp against the porcelain, seemingly to bring herself to stand.
“Oh, Paisley, what am I going to do with you?” His voice was compassionate. And even though he didn’t want to send her the wrong message, he honestly did care about her.
Braxton reached out and placed one arm around her waist and the other under her knees, lifting her into his arms. Only this time, he didn’t pull her quite so tight as he carried her to her bed.
He placed her on the mattress and assessed the situation. As much as he knew she’d hate waking up in the morning still dressed in the puke-stained clothes from the evening before, he couldn’t bring himself to undress her. So, he pulled one side of her comforter over and covered her just as she was—alcohol and bile sullied her shirt.
He closed her bedroom door before making his way to the living room. Once he reached the sofa, he sat and began to strip off his shirt. It would be best if he just left. But the
