Free Flirting With Disaster by Sofia Harper Page A

“We went back inside
The Grog, danced, had a few more drinks. When the night wound down,
our friends repeatedly asked if we were sure that taking you home
was a sound idea.”
    “ They should have ignored
us and that dumb-ass, difficult-word sobriety test we did.” She
laughed, though. “What was the word we had to say to prove we
weren't drunk?”
    “ Facilities,” he said,
shaking his head. “We couldn't say it. They dropped us off here
anyway.”
    She threw her arms over the pillow and
pressed it closer to her face. She was probably trying to suffocate
herself while trying to remember the rest of the night. “For some
reason, we ate in your kitchen in our underwear.”
    “ We were making out, almost
to the finish line and you said you were hungry. We ate leftover
spaghetti I made that afternoon.”
    After that he'd taken her upstairs where
they kissed for a long time—without clothes. At some point they
took a rest because the world was spinning too much. They
transitioned into taking turns drinking water out of the bathroom
sink, laughing about that too, and then passing out in his bed.
    All night, they'd been vulnerable and open
and none of their differences mattered. In the light of day, he was
halfway across the room from her and she wasn't ready to come out
of hiding from beneath his pillow.
    He regretted them having to be drunk to be
that way with each other. She wanted an apology. For him to bend
and be something she could dictate—mold as she saw fit. He could
say he made vows to never touch her again, but he'd brushed his
teeth, eaten, and was drinking coffee. He could still taste
her.
    He'd been right last night. His need for her
dug under his skin and made his spine stiff. He wanted to climb
into his bed with her.
    “ You're so quiet,” she
said.
    “ You're under a
pillow.”
    “ My eyeballs might catch on
fire. You have the windows open.” She twisted in the covers and let
out a breathy sigh.
    The walls closed in on him. He may have been
across the room but it wasn't far enough. If he got into bed with
her, he'd forget why he shouldn't have. Last night hadn't changed a
thing. She might have been laughing at the moment, but the
suspicion would come back with the bite in her voice and they would
be back at square one. In spite of that, her taste would continue
to haunt him.
    “ Get yourself together.
I'll feed you, walk you home.” He paused. “Get you some
aspirin.”
    “ And?”
    He set his cup of coffee on the nearby side
table. “Do you still want me to apologize for what I said a year
ago?”
    “ Yes,” she said and then
sighed again. “No.”
    His head jerked back from the shock of the
answer. “Okay.”
    “ I want you to tell me
about your ex. You started to last night and then we got
distracted.”
    An apology thrown by the wayside to learn
about his ex...an intriguing request. But he'd talked about
Tatiana? Dane scrounged in his memory for that. He lifted his
brows.
    She'd asked him before he fed her. She had
been surprised he knew how to cook beyond warming up takeout, and
high-end takeout, at that.
    “ Tatiana was high
maintenance. Ambitious. She had tunnel vision. I was part of her
five-year plan. I came from a good family. I looked good on paper.
She had to live in a way that would look great to her CEO. Not
entirely her fault. Women have it harder in the corporate
world.”
    Brooke peeked out. Her hair was a mess, but
she still looked tantalizing with her sleep-swollen lips. “Because
when she does marry, the CEOs start thinking she’ll have babies and
lose her head.” She narrowed her gaze on Dane as though looking at
him with an intense stare would tell her where he stood on that
issue.
    He tried to run through what she'd muttered
before he licked her. He couldn't put the picture together from
what she told him, so he thought about the woman she was.
Independent, would likely yell at him if he asked her to cook
dinner or clean. Prickly as hell but polite. After her