Page 17 of Blitz

“Where’s your house? Do you live in Athlete’s Village?”

“I live that way.” She flings her arm out and slaps me in the chest. She giggles.

“Okay, Princess. Let’s get you home.”

If I can’t figure out where she lives, I’ll just have to take her home with me. I’ll set her up on the couch with a puke bucket. She’s not going to feel so great in the morning.

Sullivan lets out a catcall at the sight of us. He has a girl under each arm, both pawing at his chest like he’s amazing and not a mediocre safety who can’t manage a tackle half the time. I flip him off and tighten my grip around her waist. She’s so small. I’m afraid I’m going to snap her in half.

We stumble outside. Getting down the stairs is tricky. She leans into me, shivering.

Shit. Her coat. I don’t know if she came in wearing one. I don’t know what it looks like. It’s below-freezing out. She’ll get hypothermia and die, and it will be all my fault.

I slip out of my jacket and drape it around her shoulders. She sighs and snuggles in, zipping it up on the second try. She’s practically drowning in it. I’m a good nine inches taller than her and more than double her weight. The coat looks more like a dress.

“You good, sunshine?”

She gives me a happy smile. Her eyes are glassy. She’s so far gone.

“I’m fantastic.”

Wrapping my arm around her, we begin the laborious mile-and-a-half walk home. I should be cold in just a thin hoodie. Instead, I’m sweating. Simply being near her has me hot and bothered.

She snuggles into my side. “Mm. I missed you.”

“I’m sure you did.”

She can’t pick up the sarcasm in my voice.

I hate this. I hate her. I hate that she can still make me do stupid things like run into a frat party to rescue her. I hate that I go so willingly. I hate that the sound of her voice, plaintive and pleading, can convince me to do pretty much anything she asks.

But mostly I hate that even after everything she’s done, all the pain that she’s caused me, I don’t hate her at all.

My heart thumps at being so close to her. My skin prickles with awareness wherever she touches me. She’s half out of her mind and drunk off her ass, and still I want to wrap her up in my arms and never let her go.

There’s no way I’m letting her sleep on the uncomfortable couch all by herself tonight.

Helping her up the stairs, we stumble into my room. She lets out a groan that goes straight to my cock, and stumbles towards the bed. She collapses onto it and sighs in relief.

“Let’s get your shoes off, Princess.” She’s wearing tall boots that zip up to her knee. I drag the tiny tab down her leg and she twitches, giggling.

“That tickles.”

I get the first shoe off. The second goes easier. She scrambles for the covers, pulling them up over her chest.

“You okay, girl?”

She sighs. “Love you, King.”

I freeze. She can’t mean that. She’s drunk. She doesn’t mean that.

Sighing, I toe off my shoes and lift the covers. “Budge over.”

She scoots closer to the wall. I slide in beside her, and she immediately curls into me, her head on my chest. Her arm wraps around my belly.

“I do, you know,” she says. “I love you.”

I run my hand over her hair. “Get some sleep, Princess.”