Straight Flushed (Hot Pursuit #1)(54)

As we continued through the parking lot, every few steps, Vance’s hand grazed my breast, and if he hadn’t been all hopped up on narcotics, I might have thought he was doing it on purpose.

I leaned him up against the car and pulled the door open. “Slide in, and I better not hear one remark about my driving.”

“I can drive,” he said slurring his words and giving me a lazy smile.

I smirked. “True, you possess the ability, but you’re not going to. You’re drugged, glassy eyes. Get in and let’s get you home. Do you want to stop for some food?”

“No, I want to go home. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

“All right then. Rest. I’ll drop you at home and get you situated then pick up your prescriptions.”

“Sounds good.” Vance fastened his seat belt then leaned his head back and shut his eyes.

“You want me to call your mom?”

“Are you kidding?” He shot upright, suddenly very alert. “I’ll call her tomorrow and let her know about all this. If you call her tonight half the Italians in the city will be in my house. I need sleep.”

I laughed. “Fine. Go to sleep.” I shut his door and walked around to my side of the car.

The drive to his house was quiet. I perpetually checked the rear view mirror for suspicious vehicles. I kept waiting for something to happen but nothing did. I pulled into his driveway, and as soon as I shut off the engine, his eyes opened.

“We’re here,” I said.

“Oh, thank God.” He groaned. “I want to be in my bed so bad.”

I let us in and entered the code to shut off his security system. After we were inside, I reactivated it—I wasn’t taking any chances. I followed behind him as he lumbered up the stairs, the wooden railing cracked under the extra support he demanded of it. Once in his bedroom, he moaned when he sat on the edge of his bed. I knelt before him to help take off his boots.

“I can do that,” he said, barely opening his eyes.

“I can see it hurts to move. Be still and remember this. You know how feet gross me out, especially yours.” I winked.

He coughed. “I know. Thanks.”

After his shoes and socks were off, I helped him out of the shirt the hospital gave him. His had been cut down the middle and discarded. I untied the bow from around his neck, and the thin fabric dropped off his robust shoulders and onto his lap. He slumped over in his drugged state and waited for me to take care of him. When I stepped in front of him with a fresh shirt, it was as if I was seeing him for the first time. His muscular chest was covered in crisp, masculine, black hairs. His stomach was a series of hard ripples and soft waves. And his strong hands rested on his thick, powerful thighs. My stomach twisted and my pulse skittered.

I’d wrestled with Vance more times than I could count. I’d felt his breath on my face, I’d been pinned under his body, I’d been covered in his sweat, but I’d never consciously thought about him the way my mind wanted to think about him now. Stupid dream.

This was Vance—the womanizing, arrogant, egomaniac, yet wonderful man and best friend who I was lucky enough to call my partner. He was that and nothing more.

“Where are your shorts?” I asked. He motioned to a drawer in his dresser with a nod of his head. I pulled open the drawer and grabbed a pair off the top and tossed them to him. “I don’t want you getting any ideas now,” I said with a smirk. “I’ll turn around while you change into those.”

“I better not catch you peeking,” Vance said with a lethargic laugh.

I turned when he finished dressing and peeled back his covers. The smell of fresh laundry rose up like a spring breeze.

“Vance, did you wash your sheets?” I asked.

He laid back into his bed, and I covered him up. “I did. Someone suggested they were probably disgusting.” He closed his eyes.

I smiled. “There’s nothing like the smell of clean sheets to make you sleep like a baby.” I stood next to his bed, looking at him for a second. His breathing was already evening out as he fell into the darkness. I was so relieved he was all right. “I’m going to go get your prescriptions. I’ll be back in a few minutes. You need anything before I go?” I asked, combing his black locks gently with my fingers.

He only groaned, almost asleep.

I crept out and ran to the pharmacy. I picked up his prescriptions and returned within an hour. In that time, night had fallen and lightning bugs had started to emerge, illuminating my path to his door.

Back in his bedroom, I set a couple pills out on his nightstand next to a glass of water. He hadn’t moved an inch. I’d left the bathroom light on and kept the door cracked to allow a tiny bit of light to filter into the room. I watched him sleep for a second. His mouth had fallen open and his breaths were perfectly slow and even. I debated staying by his side, but I also needed to get back to Stephen.

“I’ll give you a call in the morning to check on you. I’ll set the alarm on my way out,” I whispered, not thinking he’d actually hear me. As I turned to leave, he reached out for my hand. Startled, my breath caught in my throat.

“Please, don’t go,” he said, his deep voice cut into the stillness of night.

I smiled at his closed eyes. “Okay, I’ll stay for a little bit.”

I walked around to the other side of his bed, taking my phone out of my back pocket, and setting it on the nightstand. I sat next to him and took off my boots then swung my legs up onto the bed. I’d stay until he was in a deep sleep again then I’d sneak out.