Read Online Carry Me Home by Lia Riley - Free Book Online

with all the crap from our past. Better to slam the lid against the wanting, pretend tonight never happened.
    What’s this strange burning in the corner of my eyes? Delilah’s unexpected call must have hijacked my emotions. I’m so not a crier. Not these days.
    “Come inside,” he says gently.
    What am I going to do? Argue? Not likely. It’s cold. The night air slides fingers under my skirt, over my bare thighs.
    “Okay.”
    I turn and he’s still there, not backing away. If he apologizes for what happened, I can’t be held accountable for my actions.
    “Thank you,” he says, so quietly I almost don’t hear.
    Those words strike me with a one-two punch.
    “I should be the one thanking you.” I give his shoulder a playful push, playing it off like no big deal. I mean, this is what I do, the no-strings mess-around.
    He catches hold of my hand. “Let’s warm you up.” If it were anyone else, I’d assume a dirty innuendo, but this is Tanner. He leads me into the house. It’s nice not to think for a second, just follow. When we get back in the studio, I blink at the light, abstractly aware my teeth chatter.
    “Too bright.” He lets go of me and walks to the wall, turning down the dimmer, before heading to my bed and pulling back the covers. “Climb in.”
    “Tanner, I…” I’m not sure what I want to ask. What is it that I want from him? Maybe it’s better if I just table the feelings and lie here until my head stops whirling.
    “Tea?” he asks, walking toward my tiny kitchenette.
    I yank my comforter to my chin. Part of me is still desperate to leave, but another part wants to linger. It’s as if the world started spinning counterclockwise. “You hate tea.” At least I can fake normal conversation. That has to count for something.
    “I did at thirteen.”
    “Guess you’re allowed to change.”
    “I hope so.” He turns around, and that smile, it slays me. “I was a dumbass at thirteen.”
    I burrow into my pillow, and even more strangely, my giggle is genuine. “You and your Lucky Charms cereal.”
    “Well, some things never change.”
    “You can’t still eat that crap.”
    He pours hot water into a ceramic mug. “Magically delicious.”
    This feels oddly comfortable, natural even, having him here, moving around my kitchen. His presence is steadying me, like someone’s holding my hand while I try and drunk walk across a balance beam.
    That’s when truth strikes like a poisonous snake. Tanner’s sticking around because that’s what he does—looks after people. It’s a default setting. If he can care for me, he doesn’t have to deal with himself and his own messy shit. God, I almost went and thought I was special.
    I roll out of bed and smooth my skirt. “Hey, you don’t have any obligation toward me.”
    He turns, my teacup small in his huge hand. “What we just did—”
    “It was good—great even—but it’s not a big deal.”
    “Isn’t it?”
    “Why are you staring at me like that?”
    “Like what?”
    “Like I need a shower?”
    He turns away, sets down the mug, and braces himself on the kitchen counter. “That’s what she used to do.” I barely hear his whisper.
    “Who?” Oh, fuck. “Pippa?”
    “She showered anytime I touched her.” He addresses the window. “You’re different.”
    He’s right. I am. Pippa was this perfect, lovable, larger-than-life person. Me? I’m way too close to the memories that haunt him, what can’t ever be forgotten. “We had a good time tonight, and now it’s over and done with.” I force an easy smile and ignore the sharp stab in my stomach.
    “No.” He turns around and holds up a warning hand. “You want to screw random guys like John Boy? Fine, do what you want. But don’t ask me to be that way.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Doesn’t he know I’m a hookup girl, not a relationship girl? Big feelings are fine, in theory, but nothing I want to experience head-on.
    “I won’t be a random booty call who