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“I apologize for anything stupid I did last night. I don’t remember much, but I’m assuming you put me to bed.”
I don’t recall much after we hit the club. One thing I do remember is the way Remi was staring at me before I left for the night, undressing me with his eyes. When he held on to me… My heart does a triple flip, heating my cheeks just thinking about it.
“You have nothing to apologize for. You were a perfect gentlewoman.” Remi winks, sliding a steaming cup of coffee in front of me.
“My hero.” Picking up the mug, I cradle it with both hands, savoring the warmth.
“Does that make you my Lois Lane?”
I wrinkle my nose. “No, you’re more of a jokester than a nerdy Clark Kent. So, I guess that makes me your Harley Quinn.” I almost smack my hand over my mouth. I forgot all about the post-drunk-stupids after a night of inebriation. Basically, I just told him I’m legit obsessed with him.
Remi saunters over and starts massaging my shoulders. My head falls back, and I moan. He’s so good with those hands.
“I may be a jokester, but my feelings are very real.”
I freeze. I’m physically and mentally weak, and I’m definitely not ready for this conversation. Are we doing this? Right now? When I twist toward him from my seat, his hands fall to his sides.
“Remi…” I shake my head, unsure of what to say.
“Eat, Emmie.” Isabel holds up her mushy offering. “Stawbaby.” I’ll have to reward my baby with a treat later for saving me from this discussion.
Without missing a beat, Remi eats the squishy thing. He never ceases to amaze me.
I continue to drink my coffee like we weren’t about to have the most awkward conversation known to man.
“Do you remember anything from last night?”
Damn him. He’s not easily deterred.
Let’s think for a minute… I have a huge crush on him, and I’m pretty certain he feels the same about me. Alcohol and confidence were involved.
“I woke up in my dress, so not much could have happened.”
Remi lets out a long, tired sigh. “You’re right there—nothing much happened.” His hand rakes through his wavy hair and twists the back of his neck. “Look, I’m not going to pretend nothing happened. Because something almost did, and I wanted it to.”
Did I come on to him?
He pins me with heated eyes, immobilizing me in place. “Drunk or not, you did too.”
Yep, I totally offered up the goods last night.
“What almost happened?” I whisper, unsure if I really want to know.
I wait. Every muscle in my body freezes as a myriad of mortifying things swirl around my head.
He sits next to me and stares at the table top, pensive, like he’s thinking through every word before saying it. I almost kick him under the table for an answer.
“We kissed.”
My breath halts, and I suffocate. Holy fucking shit. How can I not remember such an epic event? Shame on you, inebriated brain.
“After that…” He mulls it over.
“After that, what?” I shriek. I’m sitting here, sweating like a person who annihilated two bran muffins and four black coffees right before getting stuck in bumper to bumper traffic. In other words, I’m about to shit myself.
My god, man. Spit. It. Out.
“You came home a bit sloshed.” The manny scrapes his teeth across his plump bottom lip, fighting a smile. “You broke the orange-bust lamp, by the way.”
