“Hell, no! I’m not goin’ anywhere with you!” she shouted, drawing the attention of practically everyone in a one mile radius.

Stepping closer, I lowered my voice so only she could hear. “You’re making a scene in the middle of a police station,” I hissed. “You have two choices. You either come with me, or Griff locks your ass back up. Take it or leave it.”

I could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Her drunken brain was trying it’s hardest to create a third option. “Griff can take me with Pepper and Harlow.”

“Sorry, babe. Not an option.”

“That’s bullshit!” she snapped.

“It is what it is. He’s my cousin. Who do you think he’ll side with? Me or you? He locked you up, for Christ’s sake.” Those deep blue eyes narrowed and I knew I’d won.

Harlow and Pepper yelled out their goodbyes as I tried to lead a stumbling, slurring Navie from the room. “Love y’all!” she yelled back, her usually soft southern accent coming out stronger than I’d ever heard it before. “Call ya tomorrow!”

The remainder of the walk to my car was unbearably quiet as she did her best to ignore my presence next to her. Neither of us spoke a word as I deposited her in the passenger seat. Almost as soon as I had the car started, I heard the faint sound of her breathing evening out as she leaned her head against the window with her eyes closed. I could have taken her home. I should have taken her home. But as Griffin had said earlier, I saw an opportunity and I took it. It might have made me an asshole, but I wanted Navie with me, in my home, for a reason that didn’t involve work. With that decision made, I turned the car in the direction of my apartment, my eyes bouncing between the road and the sleeping woman next to me the entire way.

I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white, fighting against my twitching fingers and their desire to reach over and brush at those strands of hair that were blocking her face from my view. Being close to her was like taking a wrecking ball to the wall I’d built around myself. It terrified me, drove me mad, but my need to be in her presence was just too strong of a pull to deny.

Just as I turned into the parking garage, she stirred in her seat, never opening her eyes. “I don’t get you,” she mumbled, making it hard to understand her, but I concentrated hard as she continued to speak, somewhere between asleep and awake.

Yep, I was a real asshole, because I was going to try and get whatever I could out of her, drunken rambling be damned. I pulled into my spot and put the car in park before turning to face her. “What don’t you get, sweetheart?” I asked softly.

Her brows furrowed as she adjusted her position, trying to get more comfortable. “Don’t call me that. You call all your women that.”

Was that true? I never stopped to think about what I called the women who had come before. I felt like the biggest jackass right then realizing that Navie had seen me that way.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, trying not to pull her completely from her sleep. My need to touch her finally won and I reached across the console, running my fingertips across her cheek, relishing the soft feel of her skin. She gave a little shiver as one of those deep blue eyes slit open just slightly.

“I really wanna hate you,” she slurred as that eye fell closed once again, like it took too much strength to keep it open. “But you make it so hard. That pisses me off.” Her words trailed off, followed by a delicate snore, and I couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across my lips. She didn’t hate me. I made her mad as hell, but she didn’t hate me.

I could work with that.

I was dying.

There was no doubt about it.

If the marching band that had taken up residence in my skull was any indication, I was most certainly knocking on death’s door. And I was pretty sure a small animal—maybe a raccoon or possum—had died in my mouth, if the taste was anything to go on. I was sure it didn’t smell too pretty, either. I was miserable. My head had been cracked open, I had a dead rodent in my mouth, and it felt like I’d been sleeping with a million blankets on top of me, heavy and hot.

Somehow, I managed to pry my eyes open despite the crusty makeup that seemed to be holding my lashes together like glue. The moment my vision came into focus, I sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of the unfamiliar room. What in the ever-loving hell did I do last night?

Ignoring the throb in my head, I attempted to slide to the edge of the bed so I could figure out where the hell I was. Only, when I made my move, something wrapped around my waist impeded my escape. My fuzzy brain couldn’t compute what was going on, but the moment a deep, sleep-graveled voice spoke from behind me, I realized exactly why I felt like I was sleeping next to a furnace.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Turning my head on the pillow, I went wide-eyed at the sight of Rowan’s sleepy face next to mine. As in right next to mine. As in sharing the same damn pillow.

Panic, intense panic, took over, causing my lungs to beat against my ribcage with every shaky breath. That was, until the corners of Rowan’s eyes crinkled and he gave me the sexiest, most unguarded smile I’d ever seen him wear. With just that one smile, the panic that had seized my chest turned into a gooey, liquid heat that pooled low in my belly.

“Good morning,” he spoke, leaning in the remaining inch or two between us in order to nuzzle his face into the crook of my neck.

“Uh… good morning?” Choosing to ignore the butterflies that had taken flight in my stomach, I focused solely on my confusion. “Rowan?” I kept my hand over my mouth as I spoke, not wanting to kill him with my gorilla breath.

“Hmm?” he moaned, all sleepy and sexy, and gah! I wasn’t equipped to deal with flirty Rowan! Not hungover, without coffee, and with stank breath.

“What… what happened last night?”

Lifting the arm that was around my waist, he brushed a piece of hair from my forehead, tucking it behind my ear. “Well, let’s see,” he said, his words strung together with humor. “From what I gathered, you and your girls got shitfaced, made a scene at a bar, went all Fight Club on the poor bouncer and got hauled in by the cops. Griff and Dex thought it would be funny to stick you in the drunk tank for a little while, where you quickly made friends with a transgender hooker.”

“LaWanda,” I whispered, memories of the night before coming back to me. “I remember her. She told me how to turn old eye shadow into lipstick. I really liked her.” Then I cringed. “So, we were arrested?”

“Nah.” He chuckled, still unbelievably close to me. The bastard’s breath didn’t smell the least bit bad. I hated him. “No one pressed charges. You triplet terrors are good.”

I breathed a sigh of relief against my palm before trying to pull back. His arm banded back around me and he tossed one of his large thighs over my legs, pinning me in place. “It’s early. Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep here.”

“Why not?” he asked curiously, like he really didn’t understand why sharing a bed with him wrapped around me was a horrible idea. “And why are you covering your mouth like that?”

“Because I have Frankenstein breath,” I admitted without a care, suddenly remembering clearly why I got so drunk the night before in the first place. “And I can’t sleep here because I hate you,” I finished with a glare.

The stupid jerk’s grin grew even bigger. “You don’t hate me.”

Okay, that pissed me off so I uncovered my mouth, hoping my breath would make him pass out. “Yes, I do.”