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Like he can read my mind, Conner gives me one of his lop-sided smirks. “’Night, Grace.”
“”Night,” I parrot back, following them as far as the door to shut it behind them. After they’re gone, I clean up our mess. Wash a couple of ibuprofens down with a full glass of water and go to bed.
But it takes a while for my eyes to close and even longer for me to fall asleep.
***
“Mommy.”
The whispered word pulls me out of the hard sleep I’m under faster than anything. Before I can take my next breath, my eyes are wide open and I‘m sitting bolt upright to find Molly standing in my bedroom doorway. “What is it, baby?” I say, instantly in full-momma bear mode. She only calls me mommy when she’s sick or scared. “Are you okay?”
She nods, lifting a hand to push her tangled blonde hair out of her eyes. “The monster-door is buzzing.” She whispers it like she’s afraid the door might be able to hear her. As if on cue, the front door lets out another, short, almost apologetic burst of buzzing that jolts Molly on her feet.
Oh god.
I fell asleep, fantasizing about Ryan. What would happen if he found his way upstairs and knocked on my door, conveniently omitting the fact that he’s been downstairs with Tess, drinking himself stupid for hours now.
That’s when reality slaps me in the face.
Because yes, he’s made it perfectly clear that he has no intention of pursuing me, but he’s also made it clear that he wants to.
Add booze to the mix and you have a recipe for disaster.
It’s simple, Grace.
Tell him no.
Tell him to go home.
“Mommy?”
I look down to see Molly looking up at me, her face tight with anxiety. My indecision is scaring her. Actually, it’s scaring both of us.
Giving the clock on my nightstand a quick check, I sigh. It’s after 3AM. “It’s okay, baby,” I tell her. Reaching down, I scoop her up and settle her on my hip. “It’s probably just Aunt Cari. She might’ve lost her keys again.” I roll my eyes and Molly gives me a sleepy grin before turning to rest her cheek on my shoulder.
Giving myself a mental kick in the ass, I force myself down the hall, Molly still on my hip, to stop in front of the intercom.
“Hello?”
There’s a flurry of thumping noises, followed by a muttered curse.
“Cari, it’s Dec—shit,” a voice says around another round of thumps. “Can you open up? I’ve got Ryan here and he’s fucking wasted and—”
Molly’s head pops up off my shoulder when she hears his name because she suddenly doesn’t care if the monster-door opens its mouth and eats the both of us, Ryan is on the other side of it. “Mom, Ryan came for a sleepover,” she says in a hushed whisper, eyes suddenly round and fully awake.
Shit.
Setting Molly on her feet, I reach out to wrestle the door open. Declan is standing on the top tread of the stairs, his hand firmly planted on Ryan’s chest in an attempt to keep him upright and against the wall.
“Grace,” Declan says my name like he’s surprised to see me, his gaze dropping down to where Molly is standing quietly next to me, gazing up at Declan like he’s the Jolly Green Giant. “Hey, Molly,” he flashes her a brief, nervous smile before resettling his gaze on me.
“Sorry, but we’re in a bit of a situation here—can you maybe get Patrick or—”
“They’re not here.” I flick a quick look at Ryan before forcing myself to re-focus on Declan. “Patrick got them a suite at the Hawthorne for the night as a surprise.” I flush a little because we’d have to be a bunch of idiots to not know what they’re doing right now, and to tell the truth, I’m little jealous because apparently, I’m jealous of everyone tonight. Well, not everyone—just everyone having sex. Flushing a little deeper, I clear my throat. “Did you need something?”
At the sound of my voice, Ryan lifts his head and angles it around the doorframe to look at me. “Heya, Grace. I need a place to sleep it off.” He says it like we’re best pals. Like he didn’t growl and snap at me this afternoon about how much he doesn’t want to want me.
You got it backwards, Grace. You don’t want me. You just haven’t figured it out yet.