"Then..." His thin lips parted, the words seeming to struggle out of him. "...you don't want me anymore?"
"Don't want?!" The word suddenly sparked a bitter, disbelieving laugh from Rachel.
What kind of man was he, that she could ever presume to "want" him? He was so far out of her league it was ridiculous.
"You're really drunk," she said, trying to sound firm. "Let me up; it's already late..." Before she could finish her sentence, his face lowered even closer, their noses nearly touching.
"Drunk..." His expression was a heartbreaking mix of laughter and tears. "Rachel, I'm not drunk. I'm very sober right now..."
His entire presence enveloped her, and even though he insisted he was sober, the words he was speaking were pure, drunken nonsense.
"Please," he murmured, his voice rough and hoarse, his dark eyes filled with a pain so deep it made her chest ache.
