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“We found you heading toward your car, so drunk you couldn’t even stand up straight. I offered to give you a drive home. My friends came as backup just in case you were a Ted Bundy type, faking helplessness to lure some unsuspecting woman into your dungeon. But well, the stench of the alcohol was hard to miss and as soon as you flopped inside my car, I figured you were harmless. Libby over there, still isn’t that convinced,” she said, tossing her head toward the shorter woman with a few gray strands streaking her slicked-back low bun.
She was pretty. Sexy. With laugh lines around her eyes and cheek. Her lips were painted with a pink gloss, and she blushed from embarrassment as she tried to tuck the mace away.
“Libby is a smart woman,” I said. “Though you’re the ones who entered my house without being invited, so if anyone should be scared, it shouldn’t be you.” I smiled and sat in my arm chair, making sure to cross my legs so I didn’t flash them.
There was a line between a sexy tease and just throwing your junk into the face of someone who didn’t ask for it. They didn’t need to see what I was packing. Yet. Only if they wanted to.
“Oh, you’re right.” Gwen laughed, sweeping her hair behind her ear. “We should probably get going.” She turned around and headed toward the door, but she was flustered and blushing. It could’ve been her embarrassment by the realization of their intrusion into my personal space. But by the way she spoke to my chest and my hips, I was guessing her blush had something to do with her liking what she saw.
If I had truly changed, I would’ve let them leave but look, loneliness, especially tonight wasn’t appealing.
“You’re welcome to stay,” I said. “If you want.” Trying to get up was dizzying. My stomach felt empty, and my head felt light as I fell back into the chair.
Gwen came running forward, pressing her warm palm against my forehead. “Oh, my goodness, have you eaten at all today?” she asked.
“I don’t think so,” I confessed. And if I had, there wasn’t anything left in my stomach after throwing up that much.
“Where’s your kitchen?” Sandy or Sally, one of ‘S’ names asked. She was tall and curvy. She had quite the ass on her. It looked soft and welcoming. I couldn’t keep my eyes off it as she walked down my hallway.
“Oh, here it is! Found it,” she yelled.
A few minutes later, the buzz of my blender and the sounds of pots and pans banging together got my attention. Pulling myself up from the chair, I made my way into the kitchen to see her preparing eggs on the stove before pouring a smoothie in a glass for me.
“What are you doing?” I asked her.
“My mother was an alcoholic,” she said. “I have experience in helping her sober up. Here, drink this. It’s full of antioxidants, and your body needs that after you emptied your guts in the bathroom. And eat this. Protein is supposed to be good for something,” she said.
“What’s in it?” I asked, taking a sniff of the smoothie. It smelled delightful, and tasting it was even more pleasant. The last thing in the world that I wanted to do was eat something, but she went through all this effort, and I couldn’t ignore the effects of hunger.
“Just some fruits and yogurt,” she said. “How is it?”
“It’s good, thanks,” I said, drinking down as much as I could manage and seating myself around my kitchen island to eat the eggs. She kept her eyes on me the whole time but as I looked up at her, she turned away, red as ever.
“Is something wrong?” I asked her.
With a hand pressed against her chest, she smiled. “No.” Her voice was hoarse. “Did it help?”
It did. So, I didn’t lie. “Yeah. How can I repay you? Any ideas?” I asked, wiping my hand over my mustache. I was sure the smoothie made a mess, and I was trying to be smooth. Leaning forward, I studied her.
“There’s no need,” she said, taking my glass and plate from me to carry to the sink.
She wasn’t leaving my kitchen. She was taking her time, finding other things to do like wiping down my sink and washing my blender. Coming up behind her, I reached for it, taking it from her hand.
“It’s okay. I’ll do that in the morning. Thanks, a… Nope,” I said, swerving at the last second as her breath brushed up on my lips. Almost tripping over my own feet and jumping back to put some distance between us, my towel came undone, falling around my ankles.
“Damn it,” I muttered, reaching for it to shield myself again, tucking it around the waist, tighter this time.
“Oh!” Her cheeks grew red, and she brought her hands to her mouth, staring at me with wide eyes.
Mirroring her, I raised my own hand to my face, swiping it over my mouth, exhaling.
“I’m so sorry.” She stuttered, gripping her chest before fanning herself. Her forehead grew damp in an instant. “I thought you were… Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry. This is mortifying,” she said, stepping to the side so she could move past me in a rush. She kept her eyes on the floor, hurrying back into the living room with me behind her.
I groaned, not wanting her to feel as if she was being gaslit because she didn’t misread the signals. My movements were specific, to stir desire between us, and she was about to give into my seduction. But just as she leaned forward, the image of Tiffany was clear in my mind. I remembered the jealousy in her tone when she thought I had slept with someone else. Fuck. There was just no way to go through with it.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Gwen asked, jumping up to hold Sandra around her shoulders as she stared at me in my towel. Her eyes widened. “Did something…?” Her words trailed off.
“Let’s just go. We’ll talk about it after. Please?” Sandra looked pleadingly into Gwen’s eyes.
