CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

In a few minutes Claire was helping him get settled inside. He was very tipsy, now that she'd seen him walking to the bedroom, and even stumbled by the couch.

"Aren't you taking your clothes off?" she asked.

"If I do, I'll end up between your legs. And I hate that you're wearing someone else's pajamas," he uttered, keeping his drunk talk. Claire giggled. "Oh, so I'm a clown now?" He was on the bed, seated, while taking off his shoes with difficulty.

Claire knelt down to help him. "Don't be such a baby now. Take off the jeans at least; and you look dashing on them by the way." She eyed him.

"Oh, do I?" He beamed, his eyes barely holding up.

"Yes, you do."

"But you only had eyes for Bruno earlier," he complained like a child, stroking her hair.

Claire smirked. "Is that so? Maybe it's because you're such a jerk who left a defenseless woman alone in the middle of the road." He was done with the shoes.

Ryan frowned remorsefully. "No, Claire . . . I didn't . . . mean to—"

"Sleep, Ryan, you'r