CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
SUNNY
I waketo the sun shining from a slit between the blackout curtains in Tyler’s room. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sit up and notice I’m not in his bed anymore.
That’s where I was, right?
If the throbbing behind my eyes is any indication of the hangover looming over me, I am absolutely in deep. Looking around, I realize I’m on the floor wrapped in blankets.
What even happened?
My hands fist the hoodie and sweatpants still on my body. I huff out a breath of relief. That was averyvivid dream. I stand, swaying on my feet as I get my bearings and make my way to the nightstand. My head throbs with each step I take, and my stomach growls in protests of hunger yet somehow, I’m so damn nauseous.
Looking at my phone, I note it’s already almost nine am. So we’d gotten at least a few hours of sleep. Maybe he’s already left for work, and I won’t have to face him hung over. A text from Sam lights up my screen in the dim room.
I know you are probably going to be mad at me, but it was for your own good. Love you!
If only you knew, Sam.
Finding my way out of the room, I follow the aroma of coffee downstairs. The light from the morning seems way too fucking bright, and I wonder why a man who enjoys his privacy so much has so many floor to ceiling windows.
I hear him down there. Maybe he called out since he was up so late.Because of me.
I try to manage the mess of hair on my head in a bun and rub my face to make me look more awake. My body aches, my head throbs and I don’t think I’ve ever had a hangover like this.
I make it down the stairs to see he’s already up and dressed for work, wearing a nice collared button up shirt that has a tie secured around his neck. His hair is groomed back neatly and he doesn’t even look slightly as disheveled as I feel.
In times like last night, I almost forget who he is, how important he is. Yet last night he was just a drunk guy, and I was just a drunk girl.
Leaning forward against the island, he reads the newspaper while sipping a mug of coffee. Who the hell still reads the actual paper?
“Good morning. Pour over okay?” he asks.
I simply nod. He grabs a mug and pours me some coffee while I find a seat at one of the barstools. He hands me the mug and I cradle it in my hand, letting the heat melt into my skin.
“Thank you.” I blow on the coffee. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“Perk of being the next owner of the company. I can make my own schedule. Well, for the most part.” He takes a piece of bacon off a platter and takes a bite.
An assortment of breakfast foods lay in front of me. Eggs,bacon, fruit, pastries. Clearly way too much food for only two people.
“Where did you get all of this?” My stomach growls, despite the nausea it’s persistent on.
“I cooked it earlier. I figured you might be hungover. So you need all you can eat to soak it up. The pastries I ordered from Mike’s.” He takes another bite of the bacon.
“Let me pay you back for all of this.”
He laughs and gives me a look like what I just said was absurd. “Money is not an issue, Sunny. And I’d never let you pay, regardless.” He grabs the paper again.
I rub my temple, taking a sip of the coffee. “Why was I on the floor?”
“I don’t know, not sure how that happened.” He shrugs, though he fights a smile.
“You didn’t even move me?” I ask, embarrassed.
“Well, for the better half of the night, you wouldn’t let go of me. You clung to me like a sloth on a tree. But then, you basically kicked yourself off the bed and onto the floor. When I tried to move you, you somehow remembered all the training I taught you and fought me off. So, I decided to let you stay. Besides, you looked socomfy,” he teases.
“Ugh.” I pull the strings of the hoodie, closing my face inside because I am absolutely mortified.
