Instead, she gripped me one last time and then slid her hand away to grab my ass, pulling me close to her again. We were lost in each other, consumed by the heat of our mouths, the feel of our tongues as they slid against each other. I stepped back, drawing her with me until I felt the bed frame behind me, but misjudged and went tumbling backward. When the room finally stopped spinning and I opened my eyes, I realized I was alone on the mattress.
Addison stared down at me, her nipples hard, her chest heaving, and her eyes full of regret. “You’re drunk,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. It just doesn’t feel right.”
Fuck.
“But I want you,” I said, knowing I was slurring my words even as I said it and cursing myself.
She shook her head slowly. “I know. And I want you. But not like this. We’ll talk tomorrow like adults when both of us have had time to let sanity prevail.” She pressed the back of her hand to her heated cheek, and then said, “Happy birthday, Max.”
“Thanks.”
I slumped back on the bed and watched as she left the room, my cock raging with unfulfilled need.
Happy fucking birthday, indeed.
Chapter Fourteen
Max
“Tiffany, would you bring in the largest bottle of Tylenol you can find?” I rested my forehead on my palm and tried to think of anything else I could do to ease the throbbing pain of the world’s most epic hangover.
Luckily, I hadn’t thrown up, or if I did, I definitely didn’t remember. Which wasn’t saying much because I already couldn’t remember how in the hell I got home from the bar. I made a mental note to get in touch with Zach and find out.
Tiffany opened my door and rested a pill bottle on the corner of the desk. “Is that all you need?”
“Coffee,” I croaked. “And . . . yeah, just coffee. From the deli across the street. It’s stronger than what we have here.”
Her brow furrowed with worry, but she turned on her heel and clicked the door closed behind her.
All morning, between hating myself for developing a taste for alcohol and cursing my friends for encouraging me, I’d been thinking of Addison.
Just before I left for work this morning, I came into the kitchen to find her eating a cupcake, the tiniest bit of frosting clinging to the corner of her mouth. I wanted to walk over and kiss it away, then taste the sugar on her tongue.
Instead, I’d grabbed some coffee and asked, “Do you have any idea why I woke up covered in chocolate frosting?”
She gave me a wary grin. “No, but I do know when I put you to bed, I left one on your nightstand.”
“Drunk eating.” I groaned. “Is there anything worse? Judging by the ketchup on my shirt, I’m guessing it wasn’t the first round of it either.”
“A time-honored tradition,” she said with a nod and shot me a wink.
“Tell me I didn’t do anything stupid,” I demanded, dread already building in my gut.
“Not that I know of. I didn’t talk to your friends when they dropped you off, but you did say . . .” The color in her cheeks rose and she said, “You asked me for a very particular kind of birthday gift.”
“Ah,” I said carefully. “I see.” I’d told her I wanted her a few days before, so there was no point in walking it back now. “Well, I can’t say that I regret that. Especially when I still don’t know your answer. Did you tell me last night?” Had I been so drunk that I wouldn’t remember something so fucking imperative? The thought was chilling. “Jesus, did you decide what you want to do and I missed it?”
She swallowed another bite of her cupcake and shook her head. “No, but—”
“You know what? Let’s talk about it tonight.”
I felt like a prisoner who had been given a stay of execution. After her seeing me behave like a stumbling fool, I needed at least one more chance to redeem myself before she made her decision. She nodded, and I scooped up my briefcase and headed for the door before she changed her mind. I was in such a rush to get out before she changed her mind that I brought the ceramic coffee cup to my truck with me.
It didn’t matter, though.
I needed to focus on tonight. I had to do something so perfect and Addison-inspired that she couldn’t possibly turn down my proposal. All I had to do was figure out what that thing would be.
Normally, if I needed something like this, I’d ask Tiffany to handle it—she picked out the best flowers and fruit baskets, and I obviously had no idea what I was doing. But when it came to Addison? Well, I knew that wasn’t an option. If I wanted to win her over, I was going to have to do it myself. She deserved no less.
As the day went on, I put together the pieces. I called in an order to the grocery store and to the florist. I picked out a special bottle of wine. I was going to do this right, and by the time I got home, I was filled with single-minded determination.
While Addison changed Dylan, I rushed around the living room, picking up the toys and even vacuuming before she got the chance. When she came back down, I told her to relax in the living room while I handled the kitchen. She protested, but eventually she did as I asked.
I cleaned the stove, the counters, and the tiles, and by the time I got to cooking, I cleaned as I went along too.
“What are you up to in there?” Addison asked as she tried to walk toward the stove, but I waved her off.