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Alex rolled off me.“You’re drunk.Where’s your bathroom?”
“I won’t actually puke.My stomach’s cast iron.I ate…” Ah, fuck, was I giggling?“I ate maggot cheese once.”
“There wasn’t any other food available?”
“Vik dared me.The maggots were meant to be there because in Italy, it’s a delicacy, and when I was in Cambodia, I ate a fried tarantula.”
“Remind me never to go on vacation with you.”
“I’ve never taken a vacation.Hey, where are you going?We’re not done here.”
“Tonight, we are.”
“But—”
Alex scooped me up, and I wasn’t sure whether to love that or hate it.All those liberties he took.The way he manhandled me.Why did it feel so…intimate?This evening, he’d been under me, on top of me, and around me, and that had been strictly business, but now…
He deposited me on the couch and stuffed a cushion under my head.Brooke had made the cushion for me, so fluffy and soft… Alex reached for my belt buckle, and I put a hand over his, but he shook his head.
“Relax, Dasha.I’m just taking the belt off.You can’t rest with a gun holster strapped to your back.”
“Wanna bet?”
He ignored that.Deft hands removed my weapons.Alex laid them on the side table and then covered me with the knitted blanket I used when I slept down here.I’d made that fucking blanket.Damn, it had been boring.
“I’ll see myself out in a few minutes.Don’t worry; I’ll lock the door behind me.”
“Okay.”My voice was sing-song, barely mine at all.“I can call you?”
“You’d damn well better call me.Get some sleep, Dasha.”