Fighting Solitude (On The Ropes #3)(42)

Oh. My. God.

Liv.

She must have crawled into my bed at some point in the night, and my horned-out brain had taken it as an open-for-business sign.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I attempted to slide my arm from under her head, but it only caused her to turn toward me. Her hair fell away, revealing her wireless earbuds secured in place and two peacefully closed eyes. Snuggling in close, she tossed a leg over mine and her hand splayed over my stomach.

Okay. So we were cuddling.

Nothing wrong with that.

Friends could do that.

Maybe it would be nice. I could just go back to sleep and tell her that I’d accidentally-on-purpose felt her up in the morning—after she’d enthusiastically agreed to move our relationship to the next level.

Oh, but it got worse. Again.

I watched in both horror and anticipation as her hand began to inch down my stomach.

My panicked gaze bounced between her closed eyes and her hand making its descent.

No way. This was not happening.

I’d died and gone straight to Hell—where I belonged.

“Jesus f*ck!” I yelled when her palm made purchase on my cock.

She suddenly sat up as I shot from the bed.

“It’s okay,” I soothed, recognizing the confused panic on her face.

When she caught sight of the tent in the front of my pants, her eyes flashed wide, and then her mouth started moving, but I didn’t have my hearing aids in.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” I told her while grabbing a pillow off the bed to cover my erection.

“What happened?” she signed and spoke.

“Um…well. Hmm, funny story. I woke up and you were there…and well… I guess I’m not used to sleeping with anyone else.” I couldn’t do this. Not right then, with a set of balls so blue that they were registering on the purple scale and a throbbing dick hidden behind a f*cking pillow.

I needed a safe subject. As least until I collected my thoughts—or got struck by lightning, putting me out of my misery once and for all.

“What were you doing in my bed? You scared the piss out of me.”

Her face fell as she swallowed hard. “I heard a noise, and then I couldn’t…” She shrugged and shook her head, not wanting to continue.

I immediately hated myself for pinning this on her. She’d been secretly coming to my bed for years. Never once had anything happened. It wasn’t her fault.

“Look, I’m exhausted. Let’s talk in the morning, okay? Sorry I…woke you up like that.” Shit. “Not that it was bad. I just mean…because I jumped out of the bed like that.” Dear God, stop talking! “You know…’cause it scared you.”

“I’m sorry.”

My eyes were drawn down to her nipples showing through the thin cotton of her tank top, reminding me that she wasn’t wearing a bra—and how perfectly her breasts had fit in my palm.

Dropping my head back, I diverted my gaze to the ceiling. “Just. Go,” I snapped.

Strangely, Liv didn’t argue as she darted from my room.

Slinging the pillow onto the bed, I raked a frustrated hand through my hair.

Why? The night before I’d sworn to make a move on her…I’d literally made a move on her.

In my sleep.

While she had been asleep too.

What could have I possibly done in my past life to deserve this shit?





“Ohmygod. Ohmygod,” I whispered to myself as I sank down against my door, blocking it on the off chance that Quarry had decided to follow me.

Tears welled in my eyes as his horrified expression flashed behind my lids with every blink. My body shook as if I were still being jostled from his mad dash out of the bed—away from me.

“Oh, God.” Pulling my legs to my chest, I dropped my head against my knees. “What did I do?”





“JESUS, WOMAN. WHAT ARE YOU doing here so early?” Till asked, opening his front door with baby Chase on his hip.

Lifting a bag of sausage biscuits and hash browns, I replied, “I have a hangover date with Eliza.”

He pushed the door wide for me to enter. “Ah. Gotcha. I’ll start the coffee. She’s still asleep. You want me to wake her up?”

“Nah, I got it. Just deliver the brew when it’s ready.” I tickled Chase’s stomach before casually heading down the hall to Till and Eliza’s bedroom.

I knocked once before entering.

“I’m up!” Eliza said, dragging herself out of the bed.

Her light-brown hair was in complete disarray, and black eye makeup was streaked down her face. Her dress and her shoes were haphazardly strewn across the room. The small trash can on the floor next to her bed was telling of how she’d ended her evening.

“That good of a night, huh?”

Shaking her fist in the air, she headed toward the bathroom. “I didn’t puke. Victory!”

“Bravo.” I lifted my hand in sign language applause.

“I’m quite proud, actually. It was touch-and-go there for a while.” She smiled weakly. “Go ahead through the window. I’ll meet you in there after I brush the fur coat off my teeth.”

I laughed, following her directions.

Apparently, back in the day, Till had been a smidge obsessed with windows. When he and Eliza had built their house, he’d had a window, instead of a door, installed as the entrance to her private art studio.