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“No, you didn’t.”
Yes, I did. I’d said something about Blake Guidry and Reed being my hero. Then I quickly wiped those thoughts away. There was no way I’d be able to face him without being super embarrassed if I didn’t turn off all thoughts of last night right this minute.
I pulled my bra back on then slipped my dress over my head, but I wasn’t about to put on my panties from yesterday.
“Now what?” I looked around, trying to find a place to hide them.
Opening the cabinet below the sink, I balled them up and tucked them back behind some Drain-o. I could retrieve them Monday when I came to clean for him.
After using his brush to comb through my hair, I inspected myself in the mirror. My eyes were a little puffy, but I looked a hell of a lot better.
“Okay, you can do this,” I mumbled to myself, inhaling a deep breath and leaving the bathroom to face him.
When I entered the kitchen, there was a platter of French fries on the counter. My stomach immediately growled. They looked a little crispy and some actually were burnt, but my empty, alcohol-lined stomach didn’t care.
The backdoor swung open just then, and Reed walked in, carrying a tray of burgers. He stopped mid-step when he saw me, wearing those damn gray joggers, a tight white T-shirt, and no shoes. Then he smiled, a great big swoony smile that nearly melted me onto the checkered tile of his kitchen.
“Hi,” he said softly, still smiling. He carried the tray over to the counter and set it down right in front of me.
“Hi.” I looked down, feeling the heat crawl up my neck and into my cheeks.
He placed both big hands on my bare upper arms and rubbed sensuously up and down. “How are you feeling?”
“Not so great. But not terrible.”
“I figured.” One of his hands drifted up to the side of my throat where he gave me a soft squeeze, his thumb brushing over my collar bone. I hitched in a breath, looking up at him in shock.
“You need a big burger and some greasy fries,” he said softly before stepping away. “Best food to kill a hangover.”
I nodded dumbly as he moved around the kitchen, pulling down plates.
“That sounds great. It smells delicious actually.” My voice quivered a little. “I thought you couldn’t cook.”
He laughed as he pulled out mustard, mayonnaise, and ketchup from the fridge and set them on the counter. Then he grabbed a bottle of Tabasco Chipotle and set it out, too. A rumble of thunder rolled overhead.
“I can grill, but that’s a far cry from cooking. I burnt the fries.” A flash of lightning brightened the kitchen through the window over the sink. “Finished just in time, too.”
Relieved that he was acting normal again and lightening the mood, I took a plate from him when he turned and offered. Maybe I hadn’t embarrassed the hell out of myself after all.
“You first,” he gestured.
Looking away, I made my burger. He waited for me to finish before he made his own.
“Why don’t you go getThe Witcherready to go?” he suggested while he slathered mayo on two buns.
“Okay.”
I walked zombie-like to his living room and turned on Netflix while settling onto my side of the sofa. A sweet sensation washed over me, loving that I had amy sideof the sofa at Reed’s house.
Another rumble of thunder vibrated the house. I glanced over my shoulder through the window overlooking the porch just as the first drops of rain began to fall. Then I settled back onto the couch, realizing it would be a while before we picked up my car downtown. And that was fine by me.
But also, what was happening here?
We’d fought at the Drunk Pelican before I stormed off. Then I ignored him all week, making sure I was gone before he got home every night. Then I got drunk and he picked me up. I said a bunch of crazy shit and attacked him in his truck and now he was being all sweet and acting like everything was normal. But also, not normal.
He was looking at me like…well, not the cautious or evasive way he did at my parents’ house. It was more possessive and predatory and made my bones turn to liquid. Thank goodness, I was sitting down.
I started to eat and, immediately, the food made me feel better.
