“Gemma, you’re drunk.” Crow said gently, unwinding my arms from the position they had locked in around his neck.

“Am not. I’m mildly tipsy, at best!” I huffed, grabbing the door frame for balance as he deposited me on the floor.

He raised an eyebrow. “Then why did I have to carry you up the stairs?”

“Those stairs were moving, and I won’t let anyone tell me otherwise.” I pressed a finger into his broad chest and then giggled as he shook his head and began unlocking the door for me.

My vision wavered slightly, and I regretted drinking my fourteenth drink. Or had it been my fifteenth? Things had all blurred into one after the tequila.

“I’ll be just in the next room if you need anything.” Crow said as he took a step back to give me room to get into the now open door.

“I can think of one thing I need.” I grinned, looking pointedly down his body.

He folded his arms and shook his head. “Sorry love, but I’m not in the habit of taking advantage of drunk girls.”

“It’s not taking advantage if I’m asking you.” I wobbled slightly, “Want me to get on my knees and beg?”

A soft groan escaped his lips, “You’re really testing my ability to be a good man, sweetheart.”

I pouted. “I don’t believe for one second there’s even the hint of a bad person in you, Logan.”

He took a step closer again, forcing me to tilt my head to look at him. “Did you not see what I did to Brick after he hurt you? You’ve not seen the things I’ve done. The things I've been accused of.”

“Oh? You beating up a dickhead who attacked me? You’re right, what a monster.” I teased.

He took a step closer, pressing his body into mine. “I am a monster. All I’ve been thinking about is what I want to do to you and that’s not what you need."

“How about you let me worry about what I do and don’t need?” I said, my voice a breathy whisper as I reached up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Fuck.” He groaned as his resolve snapped and he began kissing me back hard.

“Logan.” I whimpered, shifting my body against him when he broke the kiss to press our foreheads together.

“You’re going to need to stop saying my name like that, love.”

“Logan.” I pleade,  already realising the distance he was putting between us.
“Go to bed, Gemma.”

“I don’t want to. You can’t make me.”

“So help me, Gemma. I’ve watched you try to drink yourself into oblivion all evening. I know Ryder said something to you, and I know you’re scared about Grayson. Like fuck am I going to be your distraction, your rebound guy.” He snapped.

“You’re not-" I blinked in confusion, "You wouldn’t be…”

“I would, and we both know it. When I have you again, it will be when we’ve both got clear heads.” He said firmly.

I felt a weird sense of relief. “So you’re saying it will happen again?”

“I’m saying that when you’re honest with me and things are better, I can’t think of anything I want more than to fuck your brains out.” He purred.

My thighs clenched together and I was fairly certain I was drooling. “You can’t just say things like that and then leave me.” I pouted.

“I’m not leaving you. I’m saying goodnight and then you’re going to bed. Maybe you’ll be honest with me about how you’re feeling in the morning, without the influence of alcohol.”

I swallowed. “What if I don’t want to talk?”
Sober me was often far less chatty and we both knew it.

Crow's gaze softened. “I know you want to be strong and do it all yourself, but you don’t have to anymore. We’ve got you.”

Meeting his eyes, I wanted to believe him. Wanted more than anything to trust someone. To trust that they would help me, not hurt me.

But I had been burned before.

I dropped my gaze to the floor. "Goodnight, Logan." 

If my reaction hurt him, his voice didn't show it.

"Goodnight, Gemma."