My mouth went dry, but I shook my head.
“No, Kamran,” I said gently. “That was a mistake, remember?”
After a long moment, he nodded.
“Yeah, I remember,” he muttered. “But it made me feel good.”
Heat traveled up my neck.
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to ground myself.
“I think you need to sleep,” I said.
“In your bed?” he asked.
I groaned.
“Jesus, Kamran.No.”
He was going to give me a heart attack.
“You can sleep on the couch,” I said. “Or I can, and you can take the bed if you want.”
He shook his head.
“I don't want to take your bed from you.”
“Okay.”
A pregnant pause followed. It was so unlike us thatI tore my gaze from his.
Mostly to distract myself, I flipped on a light and went around, quickly tidying up, feeling his eyes boring into me all the while. Then, with an arm full of dishes from dinner and a pile of clothes that I'd changed out of earlier and left on the couch, I turned to him.
“I'll be right back,” I said.
It was a relief to get away for a few minutes.
Once the clothes were in the laundry room and I was alone in the kitchen, I took a deep breath.
“Kamran is drunk,” I reminded myself quietly.
Even drunker than he'd been last week and at this point I was sober. As much as I didn't need the alcohol to want to kiss him, I had to stay away. It was wrong on too many levels.
The fact that we hadn't even spoken about what had happened without alcohol being involved didn't comfort me. Sure, a good few drinks in, he wanted a kiss, but that didn't mean he would be happy about it in the morning.
Kamran had been my closest friend for years now. I'd been his best man and everything. That meant preserving what we had mattered more than fulfilling desires I had already learned to live with.
Resolve strong, I finally went and got an extra blanket and pillow from the closet before returning to the living room to find him already spread out on the couch, half asleep.
He looked up at me as I pulled the blanket over top of him.
“There's a spare toothbrush in a pack under the sink if you get the energy to get up,” I said. “Here, lift your head.”
“Yes, Dad,” he chuckled and lifted up for me to slide the pillow under him.
Laying there, smiling softly up at me, his dark curls mussed and spread out, he looked like he belonged right here like this, sleeping in my house, on my pillow.
“Goodnight,” I said.
