Page 95 of His to Love
“Whatever.” I pulled away from his outstretched hand and dug into my purse for my keys. “Go home, Tyson.”
“Not until I know you’re inside.”
His footsteps followed me up the wooden stairs. With my keys in one hand, I held on to the railing with the other to make sure I didn’t fall. I still felt a bit drunk, although the familiar sense of betrayal was quickly sobering me up. But by the time I reached my door, my eyes could barely stay open. I figured I was about five steps away from my couch, where I planned on passing out.
I didn’t look at Tyson when I unlocked the door. “I’m home now. Happy?”
Tyson slid his hands into his jeans pockets and frowned. “No. I’m not happy.”
“Well that’s not my fault, is it?”
He inhaled and looked away from me. “No, Blue. It’s not your fault. It’s mine and I know that.”
His sad eyes and tender voice made me swallow down quickly rising emotions.
“I’m too drunk to deal with this crap tonight,” I muttered and walked inside my home.
I was aware that the door didn’t shut behind me, and I knew Tyson helped himself inside when I heard his footsteps following me. The door finally clicked and locked.
My super soft, gray couch was calling my name, and I headed directly toward it.
“Go away,” I called out, unaware of where Tyson had gone.
I kicked off my sandals and reached for my chenille throw, pulling it up to my chin after I laid down on the couch. My eyes were beginning to close when Tyson appeared in my hazy vision, a glass of water in his hand.
“Take the water and medicine. It will help with your hangover tomorrow.”
“You didn’t give Chelsea the same treatment when you dropped her off.” I was pouting and being immature. I also didn’t care. He knew where I lived, which meant he’d been following me. Or tracing me.
Or doing whatever he wanted behind my back.
He reached for the blanket, tossing it down to my waist and placed three pills in my palm. “Just take the medicine.”
I tossed them into my mouth and took the cup of water from his hand, sitting up so I could swallow it down without spilling. Then I handed the cup back to him. “Happy now?”
“No.”
I closed my eyes and set my head on the armrest. I shifted to get comfortable, but then I felt hands on me, arms sliding beneath me, and I yelped in surprise when Tyson hefted me into his arms.
“Put me down!” I shouted squirming in his hold.
“I’m just taking you to bed so you can sleep better. Tomorrow we’ll talk.”
I shook my head. “We have nothing to say,” I replied as he lowered me to my bed. I let go of him, unaware that my hands had been clinging to his shirt while he held me. I kept my mouth shut as he adjusted the covers, pulling them over me while I rolled to my side.
“I have a lot to say to you, and you’re going to listen.”
“Just leave me alone,” I whispered, my heavy eyelids closing again.
“I can’t,” he whispered. I felt his breath on my cheek and my nose before his lips brushed against my forehead. I shivered from head to toe at that smallest touch. “I love you too much.”
I swallowed thickly, that lump in my throat returning. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” he whispered, pressing his lips more firmly against my forehead. “You just wish you did. Now sleep so we can finally talk tomorrow.”
I couldn’t argue with him. His scent, his touches, and his kisses had rendered me speechless.
Instead, I burrowed into my pillow and passed out. The last memory I had was of Tyson’s knuckles softly grazing my cheek.
