“I’m sorry, Daisy.” I cringe and prop myself up on my elbows, waiting for my head to settle before starting again. “Can you please explain what I’m doing in your bed?”
“You mean you don’t remember any of it?”
“Not a thing,” I say, careful not to shake my head or nod.
“I can’t believe you’ve forgotten all about the most passionate night of my life,” she replies, furrowing her brow.
“Passionate?” I gulp.
She nods sadly and reaches out to grab my forearm, her eyes wide. “After you took to the microphone to announce our marriage and proclaim your feelings for me at your sister’s wedding reception, you brought me home to consummate our union and made such beautiful, sweet love to me all night. Tell me you remember, Landry?”
“I … I …” The room begins spinning as real panic sets in. I lift the sheets to make sure I’m still wearing underwear. At least the aftereffects of her pushing backside against me have dissipated. “Daisy,” I breathe. “I don’t know what happened, but?—”
She cuts me off with another loud snort before she bursts into a fit of obnoxious laughter. “I wish you could see your face right now,” she barely gets out. “You know I’m just messing with you, right?”
“So, we didn’t …” I narrow my eyes at her. Her giggling is starting to irritate me.
“Of course not,” she reassures me. “You got ridiculously drunk at the wedding reception, so I brought you home. Then you ended up passing out here on your way back from the bathroom, and I didn’t have the energy to drag you to your own bed.”
“Oh.”
“To be fair, youwerelying on top of the covers when I fell asleep. So the cuddling thing must have been Drunk Landry’s doing.”
“We weren’tcuddling.”
She glares at me. “Oh, right. What’s the name for that thing two people do in bed, you know, when the guy wraps his arms around the girl and she snuggles up close to him?” She snaps her fingers and pretends to search her mind.
“Okay, so we cuddled,” I admit with a groan. “But it was more of a platonic, mostly clothed snuggle between friendly roommates of the opposite sex … who coincidentally happen to be married.”
“Then what was your hand doing on my right boob a minute ago?” she poses, cocking an eyebrow. “Not to mention, it didn’tfeelplatonic when you pushed your?—”
“That was an involuntary reaction to you grinding your ass against me, thank you very much,” I retort angrily.
“Eh, fair enough,” she concedes with an unapologetic shrug.
I glare at her in surprise. “Were you … trying to seduce me?”
“Seduce you?” She laughs loudly again. “Need I remind you thatyoustumbled intomybed?”
“I was drunk!”
“Which is why I let you stay,” she says matter-of-factly. “And why I’ll spare you the embarrassing report of the stuff you actually did say and do.”
“Wait, what?” I sit up straighter, and it suddenly feels like I’m on a boat over water.
She waves me off with a hand. “You were in your feelings a little. Nothing badreallyhappened, except for the part when you embarrassed the hell out of your sister during that very uncharitable wedding toast ... and then again when you made some borderline inappropriate comments about my boss’s wife in a misguided attempt to start a fight.”
“A fight? With your boss?” I squint my eyes as I think. Then I reach up to examine my face, searching for evidence. “I survived a fight with JD Bourgeois?”
“He refused to hit you, but you definitely deserved it, especially after the unkind things you said about his brother in front of all their closest friends and family.”
“Oh, gah.” I scratch my head as I run through a hazy memory of that impromptu wedding toast. “What else?”
“Drunk Landry’s significantly more … flirty.” She stifles a smirk. “Nothing I couldn’t handle, though.”
I frown. “I can’t believe I got that drunk on freaking champagne.”
“You are much more of a lightweight than I expected,” Daisy tells me.
