“You don’t have to,” she murmurs. She sounds embarrassed. I say nothing and just propel her gently towards the large couch that has enough pillows on it to suffocate a dinosaur. She returns to her original position, with the pillow over her face. “Shouldn’t you be taking something for this headache from hell,” I asked her lowly.
“Later,” she whispers. Nope. No good. I’m wondering why I give a shit. I don’t know this girl at all. I should be hightailing it out of here. Not playing nursemaid. I clench my teeth.
“Where do you keep your pills,” I sighed. Knowing that I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Just add nurse maid to the resume tonight.
“Medicine cabinet, orange bottle, blue top,” she managed to get out. I walked back to where the remake of the exorcist just happened and hunt through her medicine cabinet. The cabinet looks like it came out of the same lot the sink did. I locate the bottle quickly enough, noting that it is right next to her birth control pills.Interesting.
I hang a right out of the bathroom to grab her some water. Rifling through her cabinets, I find a mug and turn on the faucet to fill it.
I set the mug and the pill bottle down on the dark wooden coffee table. She looks like she is sleeping, or dead. I watch for the telltale rise of her ample chest.Still breathing.I sigh in relief. I nudge her shoulder.
Shaking the pill bottle at her, I notice there are only a couple in there. “Here, take your shit before you throw up again.”
She groans and reaches for the bottle, blindly unscrewing the cap. She pours the last two in her hand and tosses them back with the water. She lays back down and proceeds to fall asleep --or pass out. Moving away from the couch, I walk back through the kitchen and lock the front door. Jesus, this girl just invites trouble. There is what appears to be a guest room off the kitchen. I toss my jacket on the dresser, unlace my boots and kick them off. I lay back on top of the comforter.I’ll just rest my eyes for a bit.
Chapter 3
Meg
I wake up with a start. The light is streaming through the curtains behind me. I realize that I am still on my couch and am thankful that it was my one and only splurge. It is the most expensive piece of furniture in the house. The huge grey sectional was a solid investment. I stagger to the kitchen to start the coffee and freeze. Looking in the guest bedroom I notice boots that were set neatly next to the bed on my light wood floor.He is still here? He stayed?I am in shock. I shake my head and then wince.Bad idea, bad idea.The migraine is mostly gone but my head feels like it has a bunch of cotton stuffed in it.
Turning to my percolator, I shrug. If he were going to kill or kidnap me, he probably would have done it already. I shovel the dark grounds into the basket, making sure each spoon is heaping with the glorious magic. Plugging it in, I listen to it making sure that it is brewing. Trying to be quiet, I make my way back to the couch. I don’t quite make it there when his voice makes me jump.
“Morning,” he says roughly, clearing his throat. He strolls into the bathroom and shuts the door. A few moments later, I hear the toilet flush and the sink running. The door opens and I’m still standing there frozen.
“Something wrong,” he asks, folding his muscular arms over his expansive chest. I huff awkwardly. Not sure what to say. I don’tknowhim. I know that he is even better looking in thedaylight, which I thought would be impossible. The harsh light of day just showcases our physical differences. I’m the short to his tall. The curvy (in polite terms) to his muscular. My inner musings are interrupted again when he turns around and opens up my cabinet taking out a mug and pouring a cup of coffee. He looks at home in my space. Which is odd for me, seeing as how I usually only have family or close friends in it. Finally, I respond to his initial question.
“Uhhhhh, no?”
“Is that a question,” he asks smirking. He continues on not allowing me to answer. “I figured you may need a ride somewhere this morning.”
I blink at him in shock. He has been a jerk since I met him. I’m not sure how to respond to the civil version of him. I don’t even know hisname.
“I also didn’t want to be held responsible for you choking on your own vomit in your sleep,” he said gruffly.
“Aah, there it is,” I mutter. “I was wondering where the jerk version of you went,” the words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them. I should feel sorry, but I don’t. I am still a bit cranky from last night—and let’s face it, slightly embarrassed. Anything that could have gone wrong, did. He smirks at my statement, takes a sip of coffee and continues to stand in front of the percolator. Which I need to get to desperately. He lifts his eyebrow and takes another swig.
He obviously knows I want to get to the coffee.
“What do you need,” he asks with a slight chuckle. I cross my arms under my chest, then remember that that action makes them look even larger and put them down.
“Can you move so I can get to MY coffee, please” I sigh.
He chuckles. “Why didn’t you just ask me in the first place,” he questions as he quirks a dark eyebrow.
I don’t respond and pour my coffee almost to the brim of the mug. Finally, I turn around after taking a fortifying sip. I don’t care that I burned my tongue in the process.
“I could use a ride to my office downtown. I need to do some work.”
He nods and washes out his mug. Placing it in the dish strainer, he turns around.
“Mind if I use your shower quick,” he asks.
I gulp and shrug. “Knock yourself out,” I respond trying to sound casual about it. Internally, my mind is racing with thoughts of him all soapy and slick, in MY shower.Pull yourself together, Meg.I need to pull my shit together. He walks out the door of my kitchen in the opposite direction of the shower, towards his truck.Maybe he changed his mind?
Quickly, he is striding back towards my door with a small duffle bag over his shoulder. He stops in the middle of my small kitchen and looks at me with his eyebrow raised.
“Do you want to go first,” he asks. It sounds like he is trying to be polite. I shake my head and motion towards the hall bathroom door.
