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I fear I may already have my answer.
Slowly, I attempt to sit up but find myself stuck. I’m barely breathing when I catch sight of the arm thrown over my middle, casually, as if he’s done it a thousand times.
Theo.
I burst up, the force knocking his arm askew as I furiously inspect myself. I’m still wearing my jeans and blouse from last night, and the sigh of relief I breathe is so huge, it could have its own bedroom. I’m even still wearing the shoes I went out in. My bright blue Keds stare up at me from the white sheets they rest on. Well. That can’t possibly be sanitary, but better this than the alternative.
When Theo lets out a loud groan, I turn my head back to him. He’s sitting up against the headboard, stretching his thick, muscular arms over his head. My breath catches as my stare lingers on his golden skin. The faint tan lines on his upper arms, where the golden hue of his skin becomes pink. The even fainter traces of blond hair on his chest. His shoulders are so wide-set, his arms look almost long enough to wrap around my body twice. With his height and build, he takes up more space on the bed than I do.
He’s so… burly.
The duvet creeps down his chest, and I get my first glimpse of Theo without a shirt on. Holy mother of—
“What the hell happened last night?” Theo asks before I can finish my train of thought. My eyes snap up to his immediately.
“Shots.” My voice is dry and hoarse, for no reason whatsoever. Because I’m hungover, and not any other word that starts with h. I clear my throat and try again. “Lots of shots.”
He runs a hand through his hair, heaving another groan before he slides himself back down on the bed. “God, my head is pounding. Did we drink the entire bar last night?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Now that he mentions it, there’s a pounding ache at the back of my own head as well. “I have some Advil in the bathroom. Give me a second.”
I stand up and walk toward the adjoining bathroom. When I flick on the lights, I let out a startled gasp at my own reflection in the mirror above the sink.
My hair is a tangled mess of knots and god knows what else. Black mascara runs down my cheeks, dried flecks dotted around the circles of my eyes. I don’t even remember putting on makeup before meeting up with Theo. What I do remember is distinctly trying not to impress him. I even wore my favorite ratty blouse, though now the brown coffee stain on the collar is so much starker in the light of day. The makeup was from before I left for work, then.
Work. I almost forgot it’s Tuesday. Good god, who is Theo turning me into!?
“Hey, can you check the time for me?” I call through the closed door, failing to hide the note of anxiety in my voice. Erica’s going to kill me if I’m late. I’m going to kill me if I’m late, because it’s never happened before. I quickly dab the crusted makeup from my face and grab a bottle from the medicine cabinet.
“Seven thirty-five.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as I pick up my toothbrush. Thank god. I have two free hours until I’m due at work. Theo leans a shoulder against the doorway, clutching his head. I hand him the pill bottle before squeezing a dab of toothpaste onto my brush. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Theo covertly checking his breath with both hands raised to his mouth.
“I have a spare toothbrush if you need one.”
He nods before stepping into the bathroom. Such a tiny action, but my heart is racing all of a sudden. Maybe it’s seeing the two of us standing side by side in the mirror’s reflection. The domesticity of it is somehow even more intimate after last night’s kiss. How is it that in the little time I’ve known him, we’ve already shared a bathroom twice?
I hand him the spare and watch as he twists open the cap of toothpaste. He catches me staring in the mirror, and the side of his mouth lifts in a smirk. I train my eyes back to my reflection, brushing furiously and avoiding his gaze altogether. He beats me to the sink, rinsing out his mouth and washing down two pills with water. When the bottle slips from his hand, he shuts off the water and bends over. My eyes immediately fall to his jeans-clad ass before I force my eyes shut.
Stop gawking at him, for fuck’s sake.
Luckily, I make it to the sink before he can get an eyeful of the toothpaste waterfall dripping from the side of my mouth. This whole situation is awkward enough without him catching me quite literally drooling all over him.
“Thanks for letting me crash here again,” he says as he leaves the bathroom. His smile is dazzling, indigo eyes glittering. My stomach does somersaults inside my body. If he can sense the internal freak-out, he’s too polite to say as much. “I really appreciate it. Even if neither of us has any recollection of how we ended up… you know.”
Is it just me, or has his smile turned devilish? I’m not sure if he means the kiss, or the ending up in bed together. Both, perhaps. My pulse stutters with the flash of his teeth.
“Yeah.” I hate how breathy my voice comes out. “No problem.”
He finds his hoodie discarded on the living room floor. I follow him into the room, my mind reeling with all sorts of inappropriate thoughts. Last night’s kiss replays in my head, over and over. The taste of salt and lime and him on my tongue, the feel of his big hands on my body. Awakening a side of me that’s been dormant for so long, I wasn’t sure it still existed.
Still exists, all right.
“So,” I start, my pulse drumming a hard beat beneath my flesh when his eyes train on me again. “Last night was… fun?” It comes out as a question. “Is that the right word? Fun?” I’m not sure if I’m asking for confirmation or his opinion.
“Definitely fun.” There’s that wicked grin again. “We should do it again soon.”
“Which part?” I’m about to say something stupid, but I can’t stop the question from slipping out anyway. “The drinking, the kissing, or the waking up in the same bed part?”
