15
Sunlight hit my eyes. Birds sang in my ears.
I sat up blearily and looked around, confused. The smell of maple syrup hit my nose, followed by the sound of bacon sizzling. Someone was making breakfast.
I rubbed my eyes, trying to remember what had happened the previous night. My mouth was dry and my lips were chapped. I was also in serious need of a toothbrush.
Memories came back to me.
Getting dead drunk, trying to dive into a pool from a rooftop, getting mad at Nathan and blaming him for something I had no right to judge him for…
I groaned and flopped back down. I flung the blanket over my head, hiding my flaming face and burying it in the cushions. I listened to the sounds of Nathan shuffling around in the kitchen as I wallowed in shame.
I'd acted like an ass last night. I must have been drunker than I'd thought. So what if Nathan had tons of toiletries for the girls he brought home? I shouldn't have gotten upset at something so stupid.
Now, in the light of day and with a clearer head, I realized how much I'd overreacted. After all, I'd known his reputation from the start. There was no reason to feel hurt by the reminder of his many and numerous exploits.
But even as I thought it, a small voice inside me couldn't help but whisper.
Are you sure it doesn't bother you?
"You awake?" I heard Nathan ask, muffled through the blanket tossed over my head.
I lowered it and peeked over the edge. Nathan sat on the sofa next to me, holding a plate of bacon, pancakes and eggs.
"Hope you like scrambled," he said. "I wasn't sure whether to go with that or sunny side up."
"I love scrambled eggs." My voice was raspy, my throat parched. I coughed and sat up.
Nathan put a glass of orange juice in one of my hands and a bottle of aspirin in the other.
"I'm sure you've got a killer headache," he said.
The sight of those pills sent alarm bells ringing.
"What time is it?" I asked. "Where's my purse?"
"It's nine in the morning," Nathan said as he handed me my purse that had been laying next to the sofa on the carpet.
With a furtive glance at him, I took out two small pills from a bottle inside my purse and quickly chugged them down with the orange juice.
"Vitamins," I explained, even though he hadn't asked.
Nathan nodded, accepting the explanation.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
It was beginning to feel like my entire life revolved around that single question. How was Becca feeling now?
"I'm sorry," I told him. "I said and did stupid things yesterday. I never should have gotten mad at you."
"It's okay," he said. "You were drunk."
"I wasn't that drunk," I said. "I just saw all that stuff and it reminded me that I'm not the first girl you've brought home and it made me question everything—"
"I said it's okay," he repeated, interrupting me. He took the plate and put it into my hands. "You should eat something."
I lifted the fork and took my first, miserable bite. Just because Nathan said it was okay didn't mean it was. The look in his eyes was distant. His usual easygoing expression was now guarded. There was no hint of the vulnerability I'd seen last night. Gone was the man I'd opened up to. The man who'd opened up to me.
