Rich Prick by Tijan

44

Aspen

Apounding headache woke me in the dark, and I jerked around, then immediately regretted it.

Hitting a body, I cried out.

And I couldn’t see.

I had no clue where I was.

Wait.

That body turned over, and arms swept me in.

I relaxed, recognizing those arms.

I burrowed into Blaise and whimpered. “How drunk did I get?”

“Really drunk.” He held me a second. “I need to turn the light on. Cover your eyes.”

Why?Why to the light?

But then it was on, and I turned my face toward the pillow.

Oh, God. No.

What had I been thinking?I hadn’t. That’s what I’d been thinking. Nothing.

I’d been sitting there, enjoying Bren and Taz, and enjoying the camaraderie of the guys. They were funny. They’d told stories the entire time, but I mostly enjoyed the ease they had with each other. I only felt that when Blaise was around Zeke, but no one else. He didn’t trust anyone.

Then I’d started drinking, because I wished I could have him come over with us, but I knew he wouldn’t, and the more I drank, the sadder I got, but the drunker I got too.

“Here.”

I opened my eyes to find him holding a glass of water in one hand and two pain pills in the other. Thank God. I really loved this man.

Swiping both, I swallowed the pills with the water, and then I had another problem. I had to pee. And my breath was horrible.

Holy—he’d let me go to bed like this? Embarrassing.

“Bathroom?” I croaked, one eye closed and the other opened just the tiniest bit to see his answer.

He chuckled, climbing out of bed.

I tried not to notice how good his shirt and boxer briefs looked on him, because it was cold out, and we were camping, and I had a splitting headache, but I did. Because he was hot. That’s all.

He padded barefoot past the kitchen area and opened a door. He reached inside and a soft light turned on. “Here.”

I loved him. I loved him so much.

I slipped inside, and a second later, he knocked on the door and shoved my bag inside. I loved him even more.

I didn’t change clothes, but I pulled out some better for sleeping and tossed them on the table in the main area. Then I shut the door and went back to rifling through my bag. Toothbrush. Toothpaste. I needed all the cleaning things I could find, because who knew drinking could make you smell?

After cleaning up a bit, I stepped back.

Leaving the light on, I didn’t want to look at Blaise. I knew he was back in bed, and he was probably watching me, and for some reason, acknowledging that would’ve made me feel self-conscious. So I ignored him as I quickly changed clothes. Then I tossed my bag aside and went back to turn the light off.

“Leave it.”

“Really?”

He nodded, looking at me from his pillow. He seemed exhausted. There were soft lines around his eyes and mouth. He had a sleepy look to him. “I’ll turn it off later.”

“Okay.”

I padded back over, and he held up the covers.

I slipped in, but then he lifted me and rolled me to his other side, so he was between me and the door.

I squeaked in surprise, but then relaxed and really relaxed. He’d been warming my spot for me.

Man. I really loved him.

I settled in. Camping was awesome.

“How was your night?” he asked.

I searched his eyes, wondering if there was more to that question, but he seemed genuinely interested.

“It was nice, actually.”

He propped himself up on an elbow and reached for my hand, twining our fingers. He looked at our hands, his finger sliding against mine. “You seemed like you had a good time with them.”

“I did.”

His eyes lifted, held mine. He smiled, though it was slightly sad. “You can talk about my brother. I won’t get mad at you.”

“Okay.” So I did. “Zellman apologized for being slightly mean to me before. He said he didn’t mean it the way it came out. Jordan’s nice, and they’re all funny. I really like Bren and Taz. Thank you for inviting them.”

He nodded, his eyes falling back to our hands.

“And I liked your brother,” I added after a moment. “He’s nice.”

His eyes lifted back to mine. “Good.” He laid down on his pillow and turned toward me. He pulled me to him, our legs tangling. Then he said softly, “I know my brother is a good person. It’s half the reason I hate him. If he were a bad guy, I wouldn’t feel like a shit person.”

I held my breath.

His eyes fell to my mouth. “I’m jealous of him. That’s why I hurt him so bad.”

My breath caught in my chest. “Because of your dad, right?”

He shrugged against the blanket. “Not totally. I think just the whole situation. I’ve seen their mom, and she’s nice too. I mean, I get why she and Stephen didn’t work. They don’t seem to fit, but they tried. They tried for their kids. That’s respectable.”

I cocked my head up. “Your mom’s nice.”

He looked away. “My mom’s damaged. So am I. He did that to us.”

Oh.

Oh God.

I closed my eyes and a wave of fierce protection, fierce love, fierce everything for him rolled over me, almost drowning me. I sputtered with the need to clasp him, anchor him, take away his hurt. But I couldn’t. That stuff was deep inside.

Hehad put it there.

“Blaise…” I reached up to touch the side of his face.

He caught my hand, pulled it to his mouth, and pressed a kiss there. “You told me you loved me tonight.”

I sucked in my breath. Oh God. I had.

The night came back to me in parts, but I remembered sitting on his lap. I remembered babbling, a lot.

“Blaise.”

“Did you mean it?” His eyes caught mine. There was a yearning there.

I nodded. “Yes.” It left me in a whisper. “I love you.”

He didn’t respond—not right away.

Then he nodded. “I love you too.”

“You do?”

Poof. The headache was gone.

Or, kinda. I smiled.

“I do. I love you.” His eyes moved back to my mouth, and he pulled me even tighter against him. His leg hitched higher, rubbing.

My breath quickened.

I was feeling the love. Or, I was feeling something down there.

“I want to have slow sex with you.”

Oh, dear Lord. “Okay,” I whispered.

Grinning, he moved over me, his mouth found mine, and he did what he’d said.

I was pretty sure slow sex was code for making love.