Gripping her hands on his hips, she pushed him gently forward like the sexiest damn train he’d ever been a part of. Fuck, he zinged at the sensation. Couldn’t get it up right now if he tried, but might be worth the effort. “In you go,” she urged. “To bed.”
He grinned. “You going to tuck me in?”
Driving him toward the bedroom, she chuckled as they reached the threshold. She steadied him when his head started swimming again, “Maybe you should drink some water first,” she winced.
“Good idea.” Without waiting, he crashed face down on the bed. A few moments later, a water glass appeared in front of his face. Dopey grin tugging at his cheeks, he dragged his ass up and sat on the side of the bed. “Thanks,” he said breathlessly after gulping down the entire contents of the glass.
“Alright. Sleep it off sailor. I’ll be back to check on you in the morning.”
Chortling, he reached for her hand. “You’d better sleep here to make sure I’m safe all night.”
“Charming,” she backed away and took the empty glass from him, refilled it, and left it on the nightstand. “I’m not taking advantage of an intoxicated man.”
“Come on, a few more minutes the other night and I would have taken advantage of you,” he slurred.
“But you didn’t. Nor will I. And I was warm and fuzzy, you’re going to be lucky if you remember any of this tomorrow.”
“How was your date with Dr. Practical? Was he as good of a kisser as me?”
“What was that you were saying about always putting your foot in your mouth? It might be a good time to extricate that foot and go to bed.”
His stomach rolled as he let his imagination run wild; maybe that goodnight kiss had been the G-rated version compared to what they might have been up to earlier. “Didn’t feel like making a night of it?”
“No.”
“Did he agree to go with you to the wedding?”
“I didn’t ask him.”
His eyes fought to shutter closed, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from chewing on his own bullshit. “You’re pretty. He’s an idiot.”
She stared, hesitating in his bedroom doorway with her arms crossed.
Fuck no, not sympathy. He really couldn’t take it from her. Furious Freya was so much safer. “I’ve got nothing, Freya. No future. No dreams. And I sure as hell don’t know what to do with a woman as interesting as you. You’d be bored with me in a day.”
“Goodnight, Zane,” she whispered, closing his bedroom door, her heels clicking across the wood floors.
Closing his eyes, he crashed and slept hard.
Tapping her foot on the floor, Freya debated. He was so trashed. Heading outside, she crossed over to the main house and eased in the front door, collapsing against it as it clicked closed.
“You okay?” Asher was dressed in nothing but jeans, filling two glasses of water in the kitchen.
“Yeah.”
“Have fun on your date?”
“I did. It was nice to see Seth.”
“What’s bugging you?” he set the glasses down, rested his palms on the island and waited.
Exhaling every last molecule of air before speaking, she shrugged. “Zane’s drunk.”
“Drunk? Stoic Zane?” His brow scrunched together.
She nodded. “You should go check on him.”
He stood tall, looking toward the bedroom, then to Zane.
