Lea nodded. “Good. I’m gonna take him home. Can you let Monroe know what happened?”
Shea hesitated, his mouth opening and closing, his eyes flashing between me and Lea. “I think I should?—”
“No,” I said quickly. “I’ll go with Lea.” The last person I wanted to be with was my overprotective brother.
Shea’s jaw hardened, then his shoulders slumped in resignation. Before I could stop him, he grabbed the nape of my neck and gave me a hard kiss on the forehead. “Be safe. And drink a lot of water before you go to sleep,” he said.
Then he walked away.
“Come on, Beau. Let’s get you home.” I let Lea haul me to my feet, let him wrap his arm around my waist, let him lead me outside.
He let me rest my head on his shoulder, and I wondered what it would be like if I could have this every day.
10
LEA
Ididn’t think I was ever going to forgive myself.
I should have been paying more attention. Should have cut Beau off as soon as I saw him swaying on his stool, his brown eyes glazed and shiny in his drunkenness. And where was I? Talking to some jackass because the sight of Beau constantly smiling was doing devastating things to my heart.
Fuck. It wasmybar.Iwas the one who’d invited him out. How could I let something like that happen? The guilt was so all-encompassing it felt like I would never know anything but the weight of it.
Beau mumbled something against my shoulder, and I stopped walking. We were almost back at the apartment, I could see it only half a block away, and I was desperate to get him home and ply him with water before he passed out.
“What was that?” I asked, slipping the hand that wasn’t around his waist under his chin, nudging it up. It was my burned hand, and it had started throbbing back in the bar from carrying Beau earlier, but I didn’t care. The pain was a good distraction from how much of an absolute failure I was.
Beau’s eyes were half-lidded when they met mine, and therewas a dazed smile on his face. “Said you smell good,” he mumbled. “Like…cotton candy.”
A laugh slipped out of me, and I tugged him closer. “I guess I’ll take that. Come on, we’re almost there.”
Beau barely made it through the front entrance before he really began sagging, so I hoisted him up over my shoulder. That woke him up a bit, and his hands fisted in the back of my shirt as he let out a soft groan.
He was deceptively heavy, and by the time we were at the door, my shoulder was aching. I carefully set him back on his feet and he tipped forward, burying his face in my chest. I kept my hand at his lower back to steady him as I dug my key out and unlocked the door.
His hands were all over me as I ushered him to his room, grasping and clinging as he stumbled over his feet, and the guilt deepened. This was not how I’d wanted the night to go. Not at all. If I’d just paid more attention to him…
I pushed away my glum thoughts and focused on getting Beau into bed. Once in his room, he stumbled forward and caught himself with a hand braced on the bed. I helped him sit down, then said, “I’m gonna go get you some water, okay? Just stay here. Don’t move.”
I watched him for a moment to make sure he was okay, and he swayed gently, staring at me. My chest tightened, and I hurried down the hall to the kitchen and poured two glasses of water. When I got back to his room, he was lying flat on his back with his eyes closed. I set one glass on his nightstand, then sat beside him on the bed.
“Beau,” I said. “Hey, wake up. Just for a little bit.” I ran my fingers through his hair, and he moaned. Was he feeling sick again? “Beau, come on, sit up for me. Can you sit up for me?” I braced my hand under his shoulders and tried to push. He got the hint, his eyes blinking open as he sat up.
“Lea?” he croaked, those big brown eyes sliding over me.
“Yeah, babe, I’m here. I brought you some water. I want you to drink it for me. Can you do that?” I asked softly.
He nodded, whispered, “Babe,” almost reverently, and I held the glass with him as he gulped down most of it in one go.
He pushed the glass away, panting, then grabbed the hem of his shirt and dragged it over his head. I swallowed hard when he tossed it onto the floor. His fingers went to the button on his jeans, fumbling with it until a frustrated sound rumbled from his chest, and I set the glass I was still holding down on the nightstand.
“Here,” I said. “I’ll help you.” My own fingers were shaking as I undid the button. I let him drag the zipper down, and then he was grappling with his pants, wobbling as he yanked each leg off. He was still in those blue boxers from earlier, and I had to forcibly tear my eyes from all the freckled skin he’d just uncovered.
I looked up to find him staring at me. My heart raced when he scooted closer, then jolted when he grasped my upper arms in a firm grip, keeping that intense, half-lidded gaze locked on mine.
“You’re a good person, Lea,” he said with an adorable pout, his words drawn out. His face dropped against my chest, as if his head was too heavy to hold up any longer, and he mumbled, “As good as you are beautiful.”
There was a roaring in my ears as my blood pounded through my veins. He slowly stroked my arm, like he was petting me.