“Cynthia, I…”
I leaned in closer, hands pressed into the edge of his mattress. I’d do anything to hear what he was going to say, short of crawling into the bed of him.
Because it sure seemed like he was about to reveal how he truly felt about me.
Eyes closed, he opened his lips, as if to speak.
And snored instead.
Disappointment shooting through me, I flopped back into my chair.
No, I shouldn’t be disappointed. If he hadn’t been drugged, he wouldn’t have said any of those things. I shouldn’t take any of them beyond simple compliments, and promptly forget them.
If he truly meant them, he would say them when he was sober.
Still, I couldn’t deny the spikes of pleasure that thrilled me with each of his words.
You’re so beautiful.
I could look at you forever.
Hate it, the thought of
