Overnight Sensation(8)



How much longer can this night get? “Listen, Heidi. When I said we were going to my place, I just meant that you need a place to—”

“Here we are!” the driver announces cheerfully.

“My body is ready,” she whispers.

I wonder if they teach that at charm school.

Heidi opens the door and climbs out. And then? She tumbles to the curb.

I curse as the doorman comes running outside, but I get to her first. I scoop Heidi off the pavement and into my arms. She slumps against me.

“Everything all right, Mr. Castro?” asks Miguel.

“It will be. This one had a little too much to drink, and now she’s going to sleep it off.”

“You smell nice,” Heidi says, wrapping her arms around me like an octopus.

Miguel laughs. “You need help?”

“Nope. I got this,” I say, beginning to tow her toward the building. He runs to open the door for us.

“Are there stairs?” Heidi mumbles. “I don’t think I can do stairs.”

No kidding. She can’t even do flat pavement. It’s only about fifteen feet, but I’m basically carrying her toward the door. I turn around just as we reach it and see the driver grinning at me through the open window of the car.

Laugh it up, buddy.

Somehow we make it through the lobby, and Miguel has already summoned the elevator. When it arrives, he blocks the doors open for me. “Good night, Mr. Castro.”

“Night,” I grumble. “Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime.” He tips his hat to me as the shiny doors close.

He didn’t press the floor button, though, so now I have to do it myself. “Let’s see,” I say, parking my elbow against the paneling so I can stabilize myself and Heidi at the same time. Her body is in my way, and the first time I reach out to hit the button for the third floor, I miss.

“Goodness,” Heidi gurgles. “You’re like my ex-boyfriend trying to find my clitoris.” She smacks her hand on the console and presses the button. As well as two others.

That’ll do, I guess.

“Your ex-boyfriend?” I ask by way of conversation. “Let me guess. He was a hockey player?”

“Yup,” she says, snuggling her face into my neck. The elevator begins to move upward. “You’re my type. I love your body. It’s so…” She doesn’t finish the sentence. But one of her hands wraps around to explore my ass. “Wow.” Her hand travels all over my backside, then runs right up the center between my—

I twist away from her. “Getting a little fresh, are we?”

She kisses my neck. And I won’t lie—she smells good, too. Like citrusy perfume and bad decisions. I’m not immune to those soft lips on my skin. But she’s wasted, so we’re not going there. Maybe ever. Screwing a coworker was a bad idea from the outset, right? This is fate’s way of slapping my hand.

Ding! says the elevator as it arrives on my floor.

“Come on. Everybody out,” I say as the doors part.

“Sleepy.” Heidi puts her head on my shoulder. Then her knees buckle again.

But this time I’m ready and catching her is easy. “So it’s gonna be like that, huh? Miss Perky passes out?” Great. I’m talking to a sleeping person.

With a sigh, I tuck her head against my body and lift her cute butt with the other. I stagger into the hallway and toward my apartment door.

I would bet any amount of money that Miguel is watching this via the security cameras and laughing his ass off right now.

When I get to my door, I have a problem. Both hands are busy, and I still need to unlock. It’s a keycard setup, but the card is in my wallet.

“Come on now, Heidi,” I coax. “Now would be a good time to do your share.” I set her feet gingerly on the floor and nudge her arms to close around me.

She hugs me, thankfully, and I reach for my wallet.

“Is this your place?” she whispers in my ear. “Take me to bed.”

My lizard brain hears only the word bed in that sentence, and for a split second I can picture it in my mind. Peeling off our clothes and getting hot and heavy sounds much more fun than putting a drunk girl to bed and hoping she doesn’t puke everywhere.

But we can’t always get the things we want.

I fumble the door open, grasp Heidi, and carry her into my apartment. She doesn’t say a word, and I have the strange sensation of starring in that movie about the dead guy they haul around—Weekend at Bernie’s.

My life. So glamorous. A glance at Silas’s bedroom door shows me that he’s already turned in for the night. Lucky guy.

Heidi is completely limp as I carry her to the sofa and pour her onto it. “Ow,” she says, even though I’m careful not to let her hit her head.

“What hurts?”

“My stomach.”

Oh, fuck. She sits up quickly, alarm in her eyes. “I think I’m going to—”

She stands up fast and runs for the rear of my apartment.

“On the left,” I bark as she sprints. The girl is surprisingly agile for someone who was limp as a ragdoll a minute ago. But every hockey player knows that adrenaline has superpowers.

Not even four seconds elapse before I hear the door slam and the sound of retching.

I sit down on my sofa and put my face in my hands. I allow myself a chuckle. At least I didn’t insist on taking her home to Manhattan. She might be puking on me in the back of a car right now.

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