Crosby chuckled. “You don’t remember last night?”

I froze, searching back in my memories. The liquor taste test, the crowd, discovering my love of lemon drop shots…my gaze flew to Crosby. “Did I—?” I cleared my throat. “Did I get on stage and sing that Titanic song with Bell?”

Crosby grinned. “You two sounded like someone was torturing a pair of cats.”

I buried my face in my hands. This wasn’t happening. I didn’t do things like this. I was responsible. I never made a fool of myself. I’d had too many experiences of someone doing that to me. My mother. Grant.

The bed dipped, and a hint of Crosby’s cologne hit my senses. “Look at me.”

I gave my head a shake.

Crosby cupped my face, easing my hands away from where they covered my eyes. “You had fun. You let loose. You and Bell laughed so hard, you cried. Ford’s going to start a karaoke night because of the two of you. The whole bar was into it.”

My stomach dropped. “How many people saw?” The crowd was all a bit of a blur.

“Who cares? You were having fun.”

I shoved his hands away. “You don’t get it. I don’t want anyone to see me that way.”

“What way?”

“Not in control.” I had worked tirelessly to prove to everyone that I wasn’t like my mother. To project nothing but a responsible, respectable image. But in one night, I could’ve ruined it all. People would talk, wonder if I was more like my mother than they thought.

Crosby squeezed my thigh through the blankets on my bed. “It was beautiful to see. And you’ll never be able to control everything.”

“I know that,” I snapped. I knew better than most how little control we actually had over the big picture of our lives. But that just made me hold tighter to the things I could sway. I took a deep breath. “Thank you for bringing me home, for making sure I was okay…” My words trailed off as I took in what I was wearing, an old high school volleyball t-shirt and not much else. “Did you undress me?”

Crosby tipped his face heavenward. “I’ve been inside you, felt every inch of that sweet body, I don’t think changing you out of those hot number cruncher clothes should make you bashful.”

The man had a point. “Fine. You can go now. I need to get ready for work.”

Crosby gave his head a shake but bent forward to quickly brush his lips against mine. “This isn’t over. I’ll have a new challenge for you soon.”

Another challenge from Crosby just might kill me.

“You’re late.”