Needing Her (8 page)

“Good boy, lamp. Now, stay!”

“Maci.”

She whirled around so fast that her purse hit the lamp and knocked it off the table and onto the floor. “Fuck! I’m sorry! I told you to stay,” she hissed down at the lamp, and fell half onto the couch, half onto the floor, bending over to see where it had fallen.

“Damn it,” I mumbled, and ran over to put my gun on the bar countertop before going to Maci. “You okay there?” I asked as I pulled her fully onto the couch and brushed her wild hair back from her face.

“Connor! Hi,” she was still whisper-yelling, and her face looked like she hadn’t known I was there. God, she was so fucking wasted.

“Hey, Mace. Little bit drunk tonight?”

“What? No, I just wanted to—hi.”

I couldn’t help it. I cracked a smile and had to drop my head when I started laughing. “Hi, Maci. Baby, do you know what apartment you’re in?”

“Where’d you come from?” she asked her massive purse as she took it off her shoulder, stared at it, and let it fall to the floor.

I just shook my head and repeated my question. “Maci, do you know what apartment you’re in?”

She looked back over at me, and her eyes widened when she saw me. “Connor! Hi! I wanted to come home and then, here am I! I am? Sam I am!” she giggled as she kicked off her shoes and grabbed at the bottom of her shirt and started to pull it up.

“Maci, stop! Stop, undressing.” I grabbed her hands and kept them from going higher. “Maci. Do you know that you’re in my apartment?”

Maci looked around confused for a second, and then nodded slowly before leaning all the way to the right to whisper to a pillow. “Did you bring me here?”

“Did you drive home?”

“Ooo, I love him. He’s soft, and my face is in love with him.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Maci, it’s a pillow.” I sat her up and gripped her chin with my hand. “Did. You. Drive. Home. Tell me now.”

She started giggling until she was laughing loudly and leaning into my bare chest. “Of course not,
Detective Green
.”

“Thank God. Who drove you home? Was it Amber?”

Maci sat up so fast I was afraid she was about to throw up, but she just looked around and pointed at random things in my apartment. “No, Amber . . . where’d Amber . . . oh, Amber’s boyfriend came.”

“He drove you home?”

“No, no. This guy I met at the bar we went to, he was so sweet! I think his name was John, or Josh . . . or . . . where’d my pillow go?”

I had to let go of her so my hands wouldn’t hurt her as they clenched into fists. I wanted to yell at her for letting some random guy drive her home. I wanted to tell her about how many times I’d had calls where girl’s bodies Maci’s age and younger were found dumped on the side of the road. But she was so gone right now, it wouldn’t even matter. Then something else occurred to me.

“Maci, Maci wake up!” I pulled her up from the pillow and made her look at me again. “Did he walk you upstairs? Did you tell him which apartment was yours?”

“No, no . . . he just dropped me off.”

I let go of her and ran my hands over my face. Thank God Maci had some kind of sense when she was wasted. But I sure as shit wasn’t letting her go back to her apartment tonight. I still didn’t trust the guy who brought her home, or what she might have told him.

“I love you.”

My hands froze and I dropped them slowly as I turned to look at her, but she was cuddling the damn pillow again—
oh dear God she just kissed it.

“All right, I think you’ve had enough time with this pillow. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” I pulled her up and she struggled against me as I tried to take the pillow away from her.

“No, he’s so soft! My face loves him!”

“I know, you’ve professed your love for my pillow a few times now, but I’m gonna get you taken care of and in bed now. Okay?”

“No”—she whined—“pillow!”

I stood with her in my arms and laughed when she reached toward the couch. “I have softer pillows on my bed,” I whispered into her ear.

She froze for all of two seconds before throwing her arm out and pointing in the direction of my bedroom. “Pillows!”

“Christ, you are so fucking drunk,” I mumbled to myself. “How about this: you help me take care of you, and I’ll give you all the pillows you want. Deal?”

When she turned to look up at me, our faces were so close that everything in me halted for a few seconds as I fought with the dreams and fantasies I’d been having.

Maci’s face scrunched in concentration before nodding. “Deal.”

I swallowed hard and nodded to get my mind working again. “Right. Okay, kitchen first.”

I walked her in there and placed her on the countertop, making sure she was stable enough to keep herself sitting straight up without falling off. Grabbing a few aspirin and a Gatorade out of the fridge, I walked back to where she was sitting and handed her the pills.

“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up?”

“Nope, nope, nope!”

Smiling, I handed her the bottle and made sure she had a firm grip on it. “Take the pills and drink that entire bottle.”

She frowned after she took the pills. “But I’m not thirsty.”

“Take as long as you need, but drink the whole bottle, or no pillows.”

Her bloodshot eyes narrowed at me as she brought the bottle back to her mouth and continued drinking. Once the bottle was empty, I helped her off the counter and walked her into my bathroom before turning on the shower.

“I don’t wanna,” she whined, and stamped her feet like a child.

“You smell like a bar. You’re not getting in my bed smelling like this. Would it make you feel better if I went to your apartment and got your shampoo?”

Maci swatted at me and moved toward the shower as her hands went to her shirt again. I grabbed at them and kept them down. “Wait until I’m out of the bathroom please.”
For the love of God, please wait until I’m out of here.
“Are you going to be okay alone in here?”

She pushed at me and waited until I released her. “I’m fine,” she drew out the word. “Go . . . go, wherever you go.”

My eyes roamed over her face as I judged just how drunk she was. “Okay,” I said softly. “I’m going to bring you clothes to wear when you get out, okay?” When she just nodded and turned back toward the shower, I grabbed under her chin again and made her look at me again. “Please don’t fall asleep or pass out in there. Yell for me if you need anything, okay?”

“Yeah, ’kay.”

With a sigh, I walked out and shut the door behind me, letting my head fall back against it as I fought with myself. If it was any other girl, I wouldn’t let her take a shower without me making sure she was okay the entire time. Hell, if it was any other girl, I’d usually just be leaving her place, or I’d make her leave mine. She wouldn’t be about to go sleep in my bed after this. But this was Maci, and I wanted her too much and didn’t trust myself enough to let myself stay in there. Groaning, I pushed off the door and went to my bedroom to grab a shirt and pair of gym shorts for her, and went back to the bathroom.

I cautiously stepped in, and sighed in relief that she was in the shower, and it sounded like she was still conscious and actually making use of it.

“You doing okay, Mace?” She just grunted and I shook my head. “Clothes are on the counter, okay?”

“Pillows?”

“They’re coming right after this, promise. Just finish up and get dressed. I’ll be waiting outside the bathroom.”

“Mmm, pillows.”

Less than ten minutes later, Maci was walking out of my bathroom door, red hair wet, and hanging down over her shoulders . . . and in my fucking clothes. Shit. I hadn’t thought that one through. My arms automatically moved up to grab for her, and I forced myself not to pull her closer.

“Feel any better?” I finally asked, trying to concentrate on something else other than the way she looked. Anything else.

“Yeah, I’m tired. I just want to sleep.”

“All right, let’s go,” I said and walked her into my bedroom.

After I got her situated in my bed, I stood and froze when she grabbed my hand.

“Connor? I’m sorry for coming over like this,” she said huskily and pulled me back so I was sitting next to her. “I wanted to come talk to you . . . just, not like this.”

Whatever she was about to say, I didn’t know if I wanted her to say it when she was drunk. Because all I could think about right now was how much she’d consumed my mind in the last couple days, and how perfect she looked in my bed. “We’ll talk in the morning, Maci. I need to talk to you too.”

Her heavy-lidded eyes fluttered back open and her brow scrunched. “You do?”

I smirked at her and pushed back some of her wet hair. “Didn’t you get my message from this morning? I don’t know what I did to piss you off, but we need to talk about it.”

Her confused face softened into something that instantly made me want to hold her. “Oh, right. The girl in your apartment this morning, I’d been able to forget about her until you brought up this morning again. Thanks for that, hope she was worth it.” Maci rolled away from me and grabbed at the comforter. “Good night, Connor.”

“Whoa, what? Maci . . . worth it? What are you talking about? My sister was here with my nephew this morning when I got your text. She’d been here for a couple hours.”

She stopped stroking one of the pillows, reminding me that she was still completely trashed, and turned back to me. “Amy was here? It wasn’t just some girl . . . ?”

“No,” I drew out the word. “Why?”

“I—I thought that . . . that maybe after what you did last night that you had . . . that there was . . .”

I draped my arm over her, caging her to the bed, and leaned closer. “After what I did last night? Maci, what are you talking about?”

“You . . . you stood up for me. You cared about me,” she whispered and turned her head to the side to look away from me. “For once.”

Using my fingers to turn her face back to mine, I shook my head slowly and tried to find the words for a few moments before finally whispering, “What do you mean for once?” My breathing deepened as I waited for her to respond, but her eyes just bounced back and forth between mine. “Maci, what do you mean for—”

She sat up and crushed her mouth to mine, and for the life of me, I don’t know why I didn’t push her right back down onto the bed. The fingers that had been pressed to her cheek slid through her wet hair, holding her face to mine as I deepened the kiss, eliciting a moan from her that shot straight through my body. Her hands slid down my bare chest, to my stomach, causing the muscles to contract; and, Jesus Christ, I wanted her to continue. But the second she whispered my name, and the alcohol barely masked by the Gatorade registered in my mind, I remembered why she was even here in the first place, and what I was doing.

I grabbed at her hands and pinned them to the bed as I sat up. “No, Maci. Shit . . . no, this can’t happen. Not like this, not when you’re drunk.” Not at all . . . her brothers would kill me.

“I’m not dru—”

“Yes, you are. Maci, you’re trashed; you were falling in love with my pillows not even half an hour ago. This can’t happen . . .”
Leave it at that. Leave it at that.
“. . . like this. Let’s talk in the morning, okay?”

She looked hurt, but I didn’t even know if she’d remember this in the morning, or if she’d hate herself for doing it.

“Just go to sleep, we’ll talk tomorrow, I swear. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

It took everything in me to force myself away from that girl, but I stood and walked to the door, turning just in time to see her start stroking the pillows again.
Yeah, she isn’t going to remember any of this.
“Good night, Maci Price,” I whispered as I shut the door.

I walked around my apartment shutting off lights, bringing my gun to the end table, picking up her purse and the lamp—that, thank God, hadn’t broken—and locking the door before settling on the couch and shutting my eyes. But sleep didn’t come easy after that. All I could see was the way she looked as she’d come out of the bathroom, and in my bed, and my body was still very vividly remembering every second of that kiss.

It was going to be a long night.

Maci

M
Y EYES OPENED
slowly, and I looked around confused at the strange room that still somehow reminded me of my own. I let go of the pillow I was holding to my body, sat up, and grabbed at my head when I felt like I was going to fall back over; but after a few seconds, the feeling passed. It was then I noticed the clothes I was wearing that definitely weren’t mine, and smelled . . . oh, holy mother of God . . . smelled just like Connor fucking Green. I looked wildly around the room for any sign of him, and stood up, only to sit back down on the bed when I felt like I was going to faint.

Shit, how much had I had to drink last night? And what on earth did I do to end up in Connor’s clothes and bed?

I stood, slower this time, and cracked open the door to tiptoe down the hall. I almost thanked God out loud when I found Connor passed out on the couch. Going quickly back to the hallway, I paused outside his bathroom and looked in at the pile of my clothes on the floor.
Oh, God, they smell like alcohol and smoke.
No wonder I was wearing his clothes.

Trying to remain quiet, I went back around his apartment until I found my purse near the couch, and stuffed all my clothes in there before looking for paper, a pen, and tape. Once my note was attached to his door, I slipped out of his apartment and quickly made my way over to my own.

After searching for my phone, I pulled up Amber’s name and shot off a text before changing into some of my own clothes and pulling up my messy hair. It was obvious I’d taken a shower and slept on wet hair, I just hoped like hell he hadn’t had to help me, or that I’d thrown up in his apartment. My phone dinged and I picked it back up.

Amber: Dude. So. Hung-over.

I’m not as bad as I should be, but I still need a greasy breakfast. I don’t know how I got back last night, when I checked out the window, my car wasn’t in the lot.

Amber: I’ll come get you. Greasy breakfast so needed. Then we’ll go look for your car. Give me . . . like . . . a million hours to come get you