Ainsley looked back at me now. “If he’s on his side he can’t choke on his vomit. Better safe than sorry.”

“Jeez, since when are you an expert on treating drunks?” I asked in surprise.

“College has changed me. I’ve seen things, Darcy.”

“Damn. Respect.”

Given that it was now close to two in the morning, Ainsley, understandably, headed off to bed. And suddenly, it was just me. Me, and a very drunk guy who might or might not be my friend. It was hard to say at this point.

To be fair, that did describe most people in my life now, though, so.

Sighing, I sat on the floor in front of the sofa. I should probably have been asleep by now, but adrenaline had woken me right up. Besides, I wanted to stick around for a little while, just in case.

Brougham was fast asleep already, his cheek smushed against one hand. He was breathing steadily. That was good, right? Nothing to worry about.

I stuck one headphone earbud in, keeping the other ear free to listen out for any changes, and pulled a movie up on my phone.

About halfway in, just as I was starting to feel sleepy, Brougham stirred.

Through the dark, I could just make out his large, soulful eyes. Those intense, beautiful eyes. Boring into me. He blinked slowly, long, thick lashes brushing against the tops of his cheekbones. “Darcy?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you come for me?”

“Because you needed me.”

He kept staring at me with wide eyes, his mouth working. All I wanted to do in that moment, what everything in me was screaming at me to do, was lean in and embrace him. To stroke his hair and promise him I’d always be there if he needed me. To run the tip of my finger along the curve of his neck down to his shoulder, and assure him there was nothing he could do that would make me abandon him.

But I couldn’t promise that, because I’d already left him once.

And the price I had to pay for that was knowing I couldn’t do any of those things. I could never touch him like that again.

I could never kiss him again.

And before long, I wouldn’t be able to remember what he tasted like. And then it would be like none of this had ever really happened at all.

And, worst of all, was the way he was looking at me, with his mouth slightly open, and his chin leaning forward, and his breathing thick. He looked like he wanted to be kissed. In that moment, in the dark, in the quiet, I felt that if I’d leaned in, he maybe would’ve closed the rest of the gap between us. He maybe would’ve pulled me hard against him, kissing me the way I hadn’t let him kiss me the first time.

But I just. Couldn’t.