Slowly, I peeked over the edge of the blanket. Grayson knelt next to the couch, his eyes full of concern. I immediately pulled the blanket back up. "I'm not here."
"Yes, you are here," he said, taking the blanket off my face.
Trying to appear sober, I said, "It's good to see you."
"Mhm. Kylie said you're having some trouble," he said.
I shook my head. "Nope."
"You didn't go into work, you're on the couch like a cushion, and your breath reeks of alcohol," he said.
I slapped a hand over my mouth. "No it doesn't."
"Yes, it does. You can't hide it," Grayson said with a sad smile.
"I'm sorry," I said shamefully. "I know I said I wouldn't drink anymore."
"I know. It's okay," he said soothingly. "I figured you might have trouble today."
I looked away. "I don't want to talk about it. It's not good."
"It's not," he agreed quietly. "We can talk about it whenever you want to or not at all, but for now I'm going to keep an eye on you, okay?"
"Okay." I paused. "Why are you here?"
"I was in town for a convention, but they cancelled it because of the power outage," he said, sitting on my rug.
"That's not good."
"No. But now I'm here with you," he said.
"That's nice," I said, squeezing my eyes shut. A moment later I connected the dots, that he thought being here was better than being at the convention. But that wasn't really important. "Grayson, I'm drunk."
"Yeah."
I groaned, saying, "Can I have some ice for my head?"
"Okay," he said, climbing to his feet.
Ha, idiot. As soon as he was halfway to the kitchen, I got up and flew for the counter where Kylie had left the open bottle of wine. Grayson was too late in catching me and I'd already taken a big gulp.
"Jackie!" he snapped, yanking it out of my hands. "Seriously?"
"It feels good!" I insisted, swatting at his hand that was way out of reach.
He set it back on the fridge, which was about a million miles tall. Taller than the tallest mountain in the world, which was...really tall. Then I realized I was sort of hanging onto Grayson. Oh. Close to his ear, I whispered, "You're really hot."
"Oh gosh," he groaned, taking me back to the couch. "So this is what you're like drunk."
"You are!" I insisted. Maybe he was just wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, but for some reason I found it the most handsome look I'd ever seen. Then again, without the shirt and jeans would be so much better...
"Jackie, listen to me," he said seriously. "You're drunk. You need to get sober so you can stop acting so goofy."
"How do I get sober?" I wanted to know.
"Good question," Grayson grumbled. "I think your best shot is to sleep it off."
My brain tried to process that. "So...you're taking me to bed?"
"Yeah but not the way you make it sound," he sighed. "Can you stand up?"
I tried to smirk. "Make me."
"Okay, no, Jackie, cut it out," he said, standing up. "You need to take a hard nap. Got it?"
"Maybe we can talk when I wake up?" I said, twirling my hair.
"Fine." He didn't really sound like he meant it. So I got to my feet, wobbling as I hooked one arm around Grayson. Slowly, we made our way to the stairs, then up to the second floor. It was hard, and not really fair since the stairs kept switching locations on me. But it was nice holding onto Grayson, who was walking steadily and had one arm around my torso. He claimed it was for balance, for my sake, but I knew he really just wanted to have physical contact. Obviously.
Finally we made it to my room. I flopped backwards on the bed, biting my lip and saying, "You can stay if you want. Get comfortable."
"Just going to tuck you in, then you're going to take a nap," he said firmly, pulling the blankets up to my chin. The ceiling and Grayson's face started swimming above me, looking like an aquarium tank. Did I live in an aquarium?
"Go to sleep, Jacks," he said, flicking off the light.
"No, don't leave," I whined, throwing out my arm towards him.
He sighed. "Jackie, it's not happening. You're not in your right mind, okay?"
"No, like, sit," I said, pointing to the chair in the corner. "It's nice. I got that chair from IKEA. It's my favorite chair in the whole house."
"You did, huh?" Grayson shook his head and crossed the room, sitting in my precious IKEA chair. He got comfortable, settling in. Then he noticed me staring.
"Go to sleep," he told me.
"But you're handsome and nice to look at," I slurred.
A quick smile flashed across his face, only further proving my point. Even his smile, which was so sweet and kind, was sexy. "I know, but you need to sleep."
"Promise you'll talk to me when I wake up?" I begged.
"Of course, promise."
I laid down, snuggling my pillow. "Good, because I don't like when you don't talk to me."
A moment later he said quietly, "I don't like when I don't talk to you, either."
"Uh huh," I mumbled.
"Night, Jacks."
Darkness.