Filed to story: Once Upon a One Night Mistake Book PDF Free by Simone Shirazi
At first, she didn’t see him standing there, but when she was finally able to focus on the doorway, Blair allowed herself a small smile, glad it was this one of the missing two.
He took a slow step into the room, taking care to close the door behind him, drowning out the noise from the rest of the house. Suddenly, it was very quiet.
“Blair.”
“Michael,” she greeted, lifting her arms above her head in a languid stretch, and she could feel his eyes trace the lines of her stomach as her shirt inched upward.
You may hate me, but you can’t resist me.
His hazel gaze was tinged with amusement. “You’re drunk.”
She attempted to sit up but found it far harder than she anticipated. Her head was spinning by the time her feet hit the floor, a giggle bubbling up from her throat. “It would appear I am.”
“Good. I’ve always liked you better that way.”
She rolled her eyes and got to her feet, planning to head to the wet bar for a glass of water. The last thing she wanted was to be dehydrated and miserable in the morning, especially around people who were bound to judge her every move.
“Yeah,” she tossed over her shoulder as she grabbed her glass, which still had a corner of whiskey in it, “I always liked you better when I was drunk, too.”
The sound of his chuckle had an unfamiliar sensation rolling down her spine, and if she wasn’t discerning, she would’ve thought that feeling might’ve been lust. But that couldn’t have been it. She hadn’t felt anything like that for Michael since-
Well, it had been a long time.
Pushing the thought from her mind, she downed the contents of her glass and made her way to the bar, briefly debating if she wanted another drink, mainly to see if it would help her fight off the lingering attraction she had for the boy standing on the other side of the room.
Then again, would it have been so bad if she gave in to it? They’d had something all those years ago, far before she and Sebastian had gotten together and subsequently self-destructed. And that was a secret she and Michael had vowed to take to the grave.
Was there any harm in a trip down memory lane?
Sometime during her internal debate, Michael had made his way to her and was slipping the glass out of her hand.
“I think you’re done for the night,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear.
Once again, she rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away from him, too warm and relaxed to consider it. “Are you trying to say you don’t think I can hold my liquor?”
“Of course not. I’m more worried that you can.”
Blair heard the clink of the glass being set on the counter, but before she could spout a witty reply, Michael’s hands were on her hips, and his mouth had settled on the nape of her neck.
“What are you doing?” she asked, but there was no surprise in her voice. They’d been in this situation too many times before for her to be shocked by any of his advances, although things were a little different between them now. “You said this could never happen again. You said you were done with me.” More accurately, he’d said he was sick of her. Bored. Tired.
His response was simple, unhurried. “I know what I said. I just wanted to know if you still tasted the same.”
“Do I?” she asked, knees weak as past memories rushed back.
“Not even in the slightest.”
His touch disappeared without warning, and Blair turned to see him smirking disdainfully down at her.
It was all an act. Of course it was. “Leave me alone,” she mumbled, putting a hand over her face and hoping it hid the angry blush that consumed her cheeks. “Seriously, just leave.”
God, she couldn’t believe she’d fallen for that. There was no way they would ever return to what they’d had, and Michael wasn’t about to let her forget that. It should’ve come as no surprise that he still viewed her as some cheating whore who’d broken his best friend’s heart.
Isn’t that exactly what I am?
It had struck her many times before that she wasn’t a good person, but Michael had once been among the few to make her question that. Maybe somewhere deep down, she did have a heart. But it was clear now that he believed she didn’t.
“I know you don’t want me to leave.”
What she wanted was to ignore him, to pretend those words of truth hadn’t left his mouth, but that would have only egged him on. Instead, she coyly dropped her chin, putting on the sly little smile she knew no one-not even him-could resist, even if he did hate her.
“You really think so?” she murmured, trailing a finger down his chest. “Tell me, Michael, what do I? really want?”
“You want things to go back to the way they used to be.” He pushed her hand away but took a step closer, seeing straight through her act. “Tell me, Blair, did I get it right?”
You got it right, she wanted to say, but that would be admitting defeat.
Blair Bakhtiar never admitted defeat.
Her smile didn’t waver. “Don’t pretend like you know me.”
“I know you better than you’d like to think.”
As much as she wanted to deny it, Blair couldn’t. They were practically one and the same. In fact, she couldn’t even remember what their differences were at that point. Both assholes at heart, but loyal to a fault-even if they showed it in different ways-looking at Michael was like staring into a mirror, a reflection of everything good and terrible about herself.
It was the reason they’d had something in the first place. It was also the reason why they’d never lasted.
Instead of responding to the taunt, Blair took a step around him, determined not to let him see her crack. “I’m going to bed.”
Unfortunately, she stumbled as she made her way toward the door and grabbed for the wall to steady herself. She was worse off than she’d thought, something that wouldn’t have been a problem if she were alone, but the last thing she wanted was for Michael to witness any sort of weakness.
Never one to a miss a beat, Michael’s hand was on her elbow a second later. “You need help getting to your room.”
She pulled out of his grasp. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“It wasn’t a question.”