Leah Mitchell isn't the same shy, poor girl anymore. Now a college student, she is enjoying her life in the city and the freedom she longed for. She works hard and knows her worth. She has it all, but her heart aches for the only person from her pas...
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Leah types the reply to Tara, waits for her answer, and puts the phone on the mattress. "Done. She'll be here in twenty."
I reach over and take a strand of Leah's hair between my fingers, rubbing it before I tuck it behind her ear. "Did she explain what happened and where she found him?"
Leah leans into my palm and shakes her head. "She only said she'll bring him here. I gotta get dressed."
The sheet covering Leah's body falls to the floor as she gets up from the bed and pads to the desk. An adorable chuckle later, she's found her panties. I lie back and fold my arms behind my head, watching her pull the lacy material up her long legs.
I wish she didn't have to get dressed and could stay in bed with me all night. Why the hell did Bast have to get drunk?
Unease creeps into me at the thought. Bast and I went out together several times. I've never seen him shitfaced. I got an impression he knew his limit well, given that I'd seen him decline the drinks and say he'd had enough, not caring about the peer pressure.
"You need some clothes, too," Leah says with a gentle smile gracing her lips. Her clothes are back on. She's brushing her hair, looking at me.
I spot my boxer briefs on the floor and put them on. Crossing the distance between Kitten and me in a couple of strides, I wrap my arms around her, smiling when she plants a kiss on my chest. I haven't had enough of her. Hundreds of scenarios run through my head as I hold her, stroking a hand down her back.
"The pants too, Bri," she says, squeezing my ass. "And the shirt."
With a groan, I drop a kiss on Kitten's lips and go on to clothe myself.
We make the bed and go to the living room. When Tara texts again, barely five minutes later, I grab the key, and the two of us exit the apartment.
A red Maserati is idling close to the entrance to my apartment complex. Tara is leaning against the vehicle, arms crossed in front of her chest.
"Hey." She smiles at us when we approach her. "I'm sorry, guys. I didn't know what else to do."
"Hey. It's okay," I say. "What happened?"
Tara chews on her bottom lip. "I was driving back to the city when I saw him walking."
"Wait a minute." I frown. "Walking where? He was out. I thought you'd seen him at a bar or something."
Tara rolls her eyes. "Well, I guess a stroll along the highway is a weird definition of going out. He could've been hit by a car or a truck. At first, I thought he was high, but I guess it's only the alcohol. Anyway, he didn't recognize me. I don't know how he could stand at all, let alone walk. I will need your help getting him out of the vehicle. The guy is heavy."
Tara nods toward the back seat and unlocks the door. Together, and with Leah's help, we manage to get Bast out of the car and into the elevator of my building.
