“No, your mom loves me,” he corrected. “Your father on the other hand…” He suddenly shut his mouth and shook his head.
“What?” She set her wine glass down without taking a sip.
“Nothing.” He took another bite and picked up a slice of bread. “This is really—”
“Eric,” she interrupted him. “What? Why do you think my father doesn’t like you?”
He sighed and looked at her. “Because he sees how I look at you.”
She felt as if she’d been hit in the gut with a sledgehammer.
“How?” she asked softly.
“You know how.” His eyes locked with hers.
“No, I don’t.” She shook her head. “Tell me.”
Instead of answering, he just sat across from her, watching her. The heat from his eyes as they ran slowly over her had her body vibrating with want. She’d always wanted him. Would always want him.
“Eric?” His name was a whisper on her lips.
The chair scraped as he stood up quickly. Her eyes followed him across the room. He stood for a moment, looking out the window.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t do this,” he said, keeping his back to her. “I swore to Chris—”
“My brother isn’t here,” she said quickly, causing him to turn around.
“Obviously.” He groaned and turned away again. “If he was, he’d punch me in the gut just seeing the way I look at you.”
“I look at you the same way,” she said, standing up. Their food on the table was all but forgotten as she walked across the room and stopped next to him. The beauty of the snow falling in the spotlight of the porch went unnoticed.
She touched his arm. “Eric.” Before she’d finished his name, he had turned and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her close until, finally, his lips covered hers in the most perfect kiss she’d ever experienced.
He released her just as quickly as he’d taken her in his arms, his taste still on her lips. She wanted more. A lot more.
But when she reached for him, he jerked away. “Go to bed,” he said, turning away from her again.
“No.” She stopped herself from stomping her foot. “I’m tired of playing games. My brother has nothing to do…” He glanced over his shoulder at her.
“You don’t want to finish that sentence.” He almost growled it out. “Chris is my best friend, first and foremost.”
She swallowed the hurt that had welled up in her chest. “He’s not—”
“I won’t betray his trust,” he broke in again. “Go.” He waved towards the back of the cabin. “I’ll clean up.”
Turning quickly, she almost walked out of the room empty-handed, but then she backtracked, grabbed her glass of wine, and marched towards her bedroom. Stopping once more, she turned and, as he watched her, she took the entire bottle of wine with her as she disappeared into her bedroom. She thought she heard him chuckle behind her, but she was too angry to care.
Slamming the door behind her, she leaned on the closed door and finished the first glass of wine. Then, still feeling pissed, she had another one for good measure.
Chapter 6
He needed a cold shower, but since he was still chilled from the long walk, which had been meant to clear his mind and body from wanting Alice, he settled on a warm one instead.
Tucking the towel around his hips, he cursed under his breath when he realized he hadn’t brought any clothes with him into the bathroom.
Piling his dirty clothes in his arms, he opened the bathroom door and almost dropped them when he saw Alice standing just outside, the empty bottle of wine in her hands.
Her eyes ran from his face down his body slowly, causing whatever water drops were left on him to evaporate.
“Go…” he started to say, but she stopped him by telling him to go to hell. “What was that?” He was slightly shocked. He’d never heard her curse before.
“You heard me.” She glared at him. “Go to hell.” She wobbled slightly on her feet, telling him that she really had drunk the entire bottle of wine.
“Alice,” he said softly, hoping to try another tactic.
“Eric?” she asked, shaking her head slightly, then leaning against the wall for support.
He chuckled. “Yes?” He crossed his arms over his chest and decided to wait her out. It was only a matter of time before she either sank to the ground, a drunken mess, or threw up. Either way, he would be ready for it.
“You…” She waved the bottle at him, almost hitting him in the head. Luckily, he ducked and it grazed his shoulder instead. “You,” she started again, “aren’t allowed to kiss me like that.”
“Okay,” he said slowly, sobering. “I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he agreed.
“No.” She waved the bottle again. This time he easily caught her wrists in his hands and took the bottle from her. He set it in the bathroom, far away from her, so he didn’t get maimed.
“No.” She shook her head. “You don’t get to kiss me… like that.” The last words were almost a whisper, as if they were a secret.
“Okay.” He shook his head. “Like I said… I’m sorry…”
“NO!” She waved her arms and raised her voice. “You don’t get to kiss me like…” She sighed and closed her eyes. “Like Wesley kissed Princess Buttercup.”
He shook his head and smiled a little, knowing how to get a rise out of her. “Who?”
Her eyes narrowed as if she’d been challenged. “Princess Bride.” She waved her hands again and he realized just how animated she was when she was drunk. “You know…” She cleared her throat and he remembered that she’d taken theater in school. Leaning back, he waited for the performance he guessed was coming. “Since the invention…” she started. It took her two tries to say invention and he smiled. “…of the kiss,” she continued, “there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure…” His smile fell away. There had been nothing pure about the kiss he’d given her. There was nothing pure now or ever about his thoughts towards her. “This one left them all behind,” she said after her eyes locked with his.
Shit, he thought. Hell.
“Go back to bed,” he said softly. When she shook her head, he broke in. “You don’t want to be around…”
He was shocked when she stepped forward and plastered herself against his wet chest. The thin white tank top she was wearing got soaked by the water droplets that hadn’t evaporated from the heat of his body yet. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders.
“Kiss me like that again. Just once more…” She leaned up on her toes and gently touched her lips to his.
Had she done anything else, he would have had the willpower to deny her, but feeling those soft lips tenderly touch his, he was lost.
Dropping all of his defenses for a brief moment, he forgot everything.
“Alice,” he said when she reached for his towel. His hands gripped hers to keep them from pulling the towel free. Resting his forehead on hers, he shook his head. “I…”