"You're going to regret this in the morning," Matthew said softly beside me.

I gazed up at him. For a moment my annoyance with him was forgotten. He had the most beautiful eyes. They were hypnotic as he looked down at me. I was trying to figure out if it was the color that made them so pretty—or was it his long eyelashes that framed his eyes, bringing out their color?

"That's the fun part. At the moment I don't care." I was feeling reckless and it wasn't often I felt free to do what I liked when I wanted to.

Being brought up in a wealthy family, I had been taught to behave in a certain way. Having too much to drink would be frowned upon. In a way it was my way of rebelling against what I had been taught was acceptable and what was not.

My mom had been pretty lenient but my father was a stickler for rules. He would probably have a heart attack if he knew what I got up to. It was another reason I didn't want a bodyguard. My antics would surely be reported back to him and he would put a stop to it. Sleeping around like I did with guys would also be something that I would be lectured for. And it wasn't like I was irresponsible—I used protection and I got checked regularly to make sure I was clean.

"You have pretty eyes," I said to him. He smiled as he shook his head slightly. I reached up and touched his one dimple.

"I don't think you should drink anymore."

"Don't lecture me," I said, putting my body up against his. His smile waned and I saw the intensity of his eyes darken.

"I'm an adult and I can make my own decisions. Even if I regret them in the morning." Our eyes were locked together and for a moment it became harder to draw breath.

His lips were so close to mine. I wanted to kiss him but I hesitated. He was so unlike any other guy I had ever met and it scared me. Getting too close to this one would be dangerous.

"Do you want to kiss me?" I asked. I needed to feel like I was in control of what was happening between us.

In my mind if I at least got that confirmation, taking it further would come more naturally and I would be more sure of the end result.

There was a moment of silence.

"You know I do," he answered. His voice was hoarse as his gaze dropped to my lips.

It was the first time I had seen a vulnerability in him. He had given me exactly what I had needed. I felt like I was back in control.

"Good." I pulled away from him, taking him by surprise. I turned slightly away from him but I stayed close enough to feel him standing slightly beside me.

Mark and Courtney arrived with our drinks. Feeling happier, I took my drink and swayed to the music, content on watching everyone dance.

"I can't believe he is still hanging around," Courtney muttered from beside me.

"Who?" I asked, leaning closer to her.

"Ryan." And across the room, he was there, watching me.

"I think it's time to leave," Matthew suggested from beside me.

"But I'm having fun." My voice had come out as a slight whine.

"The fact he is still watching you means he isn't convinced that we're really together. He needs to see us leave together."

I frowned. His logic was sound. I put my glass down on a table nearby.

"I was going to get a taxi home," I said, trying to think through my alcohol-muddled mind.

"I'll take you home myself," Matthew said, his hand gripping my arm. I leaned closer and he put an arm around me. I burrowed in closer, sliding my arm around his waist. I breathed him in. He smelled so good.

"Mmm."

"Will you make sure Courtney gets home okay?" Matthew asked Mark.

"Yeah. I will."

With that, Matthew guided me through the throng of people. When we left through the front door and the fresh air hit me, I swear I felt drunker than before.

I missed a step and Matthew grasped me closer to him as he led me to his car.

"You know what?" I began to babble. "You could be a murderer."

"You think so?"

I nodded, my head feeling heavier than before.

"Yeah. Are you going to kill me?" I arched an eyebrow at him.

His chest vibrated with a low laugh. "No."

"Good."

I leaned my head against him, feeling tired.

It didn't take long before I was safely tucked in the passenger side of his car. He secured my seatbelt. The car was much nicer than what most guys drove and it still held the new smell of leather.

I watched him dreamily when he slid into the car and started it up.

"You okay?" he asked.

I nodded slowly. My body was angled toward his and my face was resting against the seat.

"If you need to throw up, just shout," he said before he backed out and started to drive.

He was so handsome. I watched him with fascination as he drove. I took in every motion—when his eyes lifted to look at the rearview mirror, when his eyes scanned the cars around us when we stopped at a traffic light.

"You didn't have to," I said, breaking the silence.

"Do what?" he asked. His concentration was still on the road in front of us.

"Take me home."

"It's nothing."

But it wasn't. There weren't many guys who would do what he had.

He pulled up in front of my apartment block.

"How did you know where I live?" I asked, feeling confused as I shifted in the seat to look out the window.

"You told me earlier."

I didn't remember telling him, but maybe I had forgotten.

He got out as I struggled with my seatbelt, but as much as I tried I couldn't open it. A few moments later the door opened and he unbuckled my seatbelt for me. He helped me out. He closed the door before he put an arm around me and led me to my building.

"Which floor?" he asked when we got to the elevator.

"Four."

I liked the way his arm tucked me into his side. I was already deciding what to do when we got to my apartment. Despite my earlier anger at him, I was attracted to him. The attraction hummed between us with every brief touch.

Outside the door of my apartment I gave him the keys and he opened the door. I walked in and put my hand against the wall to keep myself upright as I kicked off one shoe and then the other.

Matthew closed the door. He led me to my bedroom and he surveyed it before helping me sit down.

"You going to be okay?" he asked, scanning my features. Did he think I was going to throw up?

"No," I said, shaking my head.

He bent and brought his eyes level with mine. "What do you need?"

I reached out and grabbed his shirt. "You."

I tried to pull him closer but he resisted. I frowned. Most guys would have jumped at the chance to sleep with me. Was I not attractive enough? Why did he have a way of taking my confidence away and making me feel inept?

"Don't you want me?" I asked, my voice filled with the hurt I was feeling.

"I want you," he said, holding my gaze. He reached out and caressed my cheek. "Trust me, I want you. But not like this."

"Like what?" I asked.

"I don't want you to regret it in the morning."

What guy gave up the chance at sex because he didn't want me to regret it in the morning? Was this guy for real?

"I won't. It doesn't matter if I'm drunk or sober. I want you."

Even if when I was sober I didn't want to.

He smiled at me. "I'm glad to hear that."

In the morning I would probably rue the fact I had revealed so much to him, but at that moment I didn't care.

"Will you at least kiss me again?" I asked, needing a closeness with him.

He moved closer. On his knees, he cradled my face and brought his lips to mine. I slid my hands around his neck as his mouth moved against mine.

I didn't want the kiss to end—and when he broke his mouth from mine I felt disappointed.

"I'll call you tomorrow." Our eyes held for a few more seconds before he stood up. I lay down and he covered me with a blanket.

He left with a soft click of my bedroom door as he closed it behind him. I stared after him. I felt unsettled.