Hey, Whiskey by Kaylee Ryan

Author:Kaylee Ryan [Ryan, Kaylee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Kaylee Ryan
Published: 2018-01-09T08:00:00+00:00

I stand there with Saylor beside me and watch as everyone disappears up the steps. Gramps put everyone on his side of the house, except for Saylor. She’s on my side. I can’t help but wonder what the old man’s up to. I know he likes Saylor. Me, on the other hand, he’s not a fan of these days. Maybe he can sense the attraction I have for her. He’s putting her on my side of the house to torture me. To know that she’s sleeping right across the hall in my clothes. Yeah, he didn’t offer to get her anything to sleep in. I didn’t miss that either. He’s fucking with me.

“This way,” I say, placing my hand on the small of her back and leading her to the steps. She doesn’t say anything, just lets me guide her up the stairs. “This is your room. Let me get you something to sleep in.”

“Thank you, Rhett.”

I nod and disappear into my room. I almost offered for her to follow me in, but I know that’s a bad decision. I’m not sure I would let her leave once I got her in here. Grabbing a Baxter’s Distillery T-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants, I hand them to her in the hallway. “There’s an attached bath, so you can change in there. If you need anything, I’m just across the hall.” I take a step toward her.

“I’ll be fine. Goodnight, Whiskey,” she whispers.

Not able to resist, I lean in and press my lips to her forehead. “Goodnight, Say.” Stepping back, I turn and disappear into my room.

Stripping down to my boxer briefs, I decide, with guests in the house, I better wear some pajamas as well. Grabbing a pair of flannel pants, just like the ones that I gave Saylor, I slide them on and climb into bed. When I close my eyes, all I can see is Saylor earlier on the couch. Her big blue eyes staring down at me. I can feel her fingers as they slide through my hair. My cock stirs to life. I ignore it. I refuse to take matters into my own hands when the real thing is just across the hall. It would be a poor-ass substitute for her.

I toss and turn for the better part of an hour before giving up. Throwing off the covers, I decide to go downstairs and grab a glass of milk and maybe one of those cookies to distract me. Quietly as I can, I pull open my door and step out into the hallway. The house is quiet, so the sound of her soft whimper is easy to hear. Stepping closer to her door, I lay my ear against it, listening. I don’t want to go barging in, but I need to know she’s okay. Sniffling and soft crying greet me. Without further thought, I tap lightly on the door. She doesn’t answer. Slowly, I turn the knob. “Saylor?”

“I-I’m fine,” she says with a sniff.

The sound of her cries has my chest tightening.

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