The entire evening was somewhat of a blur to her. Dancing. Drinking. Dancing some more. Or maybe it had been drinking some more.
"Want to brush my teeth," she mumbled.
"Are you sure you can stand up for that long?"
She nodded.
"I'll go get your bed ready so you can lie down," he said.
Gabe left the bathroom, anger still a tight knot in his gut. More than anger, however, had been fear. A sensation that still gripped him right by the balls.
If she weren't so damn drunk, he'd tan her ass right here and now. Of all the irresponsible, idiotic things to pull.
He pulled back her covers, fixed the pillows and then arranged the sheets so he could slide her into bed. If she wasn't so sick, he'd haul her over to his apartment right now and she'd stay there until they left for Paris.
He walked back toward the bathroom, frowning when he heard nothing but quiet.
"Mia?" he asked as he stepped to the doorway.
