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My breathing hitches and my hands pause midreach. I’m about to take Adam’s shirt off. I’m about tostrip Adam Murray!
How many times have I daydreamed about this?
Keep it together, Lori. You’re helping a drunk friend.
Quickly, I help him pull off the tank top, ensuring I don’t touch him and getting it off without lingering or looking at him.
I throw the shirt on the floor and pull the bedsheet over him before he tries to take his swimsuit bottoms off, but he looks like he’s already asleep. Rolling him into recovery position, I wonder if I should stay and make sure he’s okay or leave him alone.
I should go back. It’s incredibly late and Faye’s probably waiting to let me in. I’ve got the door halfway open before I pause and remember that Kellan’s probably with Faye. In my room. Doing things that I don’t want to witness.
Sighing, I glance at the extra bed. It’s untouched since this room has two single beds, and Adam’s got the room all to himself tonight. The squishing sound under my feet draws my attention to the mess I’m covered in, and I make my decision. Closing the door, I head into the bathroom and take a shower.
Once I’m standing in the room freshly showered, covered in just a towel and without any clean clothes, I realize this probably wasn’t the best idea. One glance at Adam’s sleeping form in bed stops me from asking to borrow clothes. I have no choice. Plus, it’s Adam’s fault I need new clothes anyway, so he won’t mind. I rifle through his luggage and put on an oversized T-shirt, ignoring the little girl in me who’s giddy at the thought of wearing his clothes against my bare skin. I use the wet towel to clean up the puke trail on the floor and throw the gross towel into the tub. As my head hits the pillow on the bed parallel to Adam’s, all I can think about is that I hate the wordpredictable.
TWELVE
Day Three of Cuba
Faye
An incessant knocking on the door wakes me up from what would’ve been the only full hour of sleep I’ve had all night. A quick glance at the bedside clock tells me it’s seven a.m. Wow, now I know how Lori feels when I wake her up with calls every morning.
“I’m coming!” I grumble at the person who hasn’t stopped knocking. Kicking off the covers with more animosity than necessary, I stomp over to the door and throw it open. “What?”
“You’re unusually cranky this morning,” Kellan says, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes defusing my anger. “Usually, you’re up and ready to go by now.”
Self-conscious, I run a hand through my hair to smooth it out. “Yeah, I didn’t sleep well.”
After Kellan left with Kiara, I couldn’t stop thinking about us, and why he doesn’t see me as anything more than a hookup.
I thought about what he was doing with Kiara, about what I can do to make him like me back, and about all things Kellan.
Apparently, all that thinking isn’t good for sleep because I tossed and turned all night.
“Yeah, me too,” he says, shifting his weight to lean on the doorframe. “I wish I had the spare room last night because Alessio woke me up when he came in.”
My ears perk up. That means hewasn’tin Kiara’s room last night, and she wasn’t in his. “You got in before him?”
He glances away quickly. “I left the party not long after you did. I wasn’t feeling it.”
Hope blooms in my heart. Maybe hedoesfeel the same way about me?
“So, what brings you to my doorway this fine morning?” I ask, gesturing him to follow me in and closing the door behind him.
“I remembered you saying . . . hey, where’s Lori?”
I glance around the small room like it’s all new to me. Hey, whereisLori?
“You didn’t notice she wasn’t here?” He raises a disapproving eyebrow, a frown ruining his pretty face. “Did she come back last night?”
I guess I was too caught up in my own business to remember that I’m sharing a room. “I borrowed her key card last night and told her I’d let her in when she came up. Maybe I didn’t hear her?” I gasp, cutting myself off. “I left her with Dean last night! Maybe she stayed the night with him?” A girl can hope.
He shakes his head. “Dean shared the room with Dylan last night. We should—” A knock at the door interrupts Kellan, and I open it.
Standing there, in nothing but flip-flops and a men’s T-shirt that just barely covers her ass, is Lori, who shifts her feet uncomfortably as she looks between me and Kellan with red cheeks.
My smirk says it all, so she quickly rushes out, “It’s not what it looks like!”
