He knocks back the contents of his glass and I spin on my heels, shutting myself in my room and trying to wrestle my hammering heart under control.
In the middleof the night, I get up to use the bathroom and I swear I can hear the sound of a woman laughing on the other side of the wall.
But in the morning, when I wake up, I wonder if I dreamed it.
27
Anders is still asleep when I venture out of my room, in urgent need of drugs to cure my headache. I sneak past his bedroom, eyes firmly averted, and snatch up my handbag from where I dropped it by the door last night. If I wasn’t suffering so badly, I wouldn’t dare risk waking him up. Quietly filling a glass of water from the tap, I return to my bedroom and climb into bed.
My mind is racing through everything that happened last night, but it keeps jumping back toYouarebeautiful, Wren, and that look on his face.
I didn’t think he was attracted to me, but now I’m not so sure.
I feel too edgy to fall asleep again, so eventually I get up and take a shower. By the time I reemerge, Anders is moving around the kitchen.
“Hi!” I exclaim, going to see him.
“Hey,” he replies gruffly, not quite meeting my eyes.
My stomach dips.Please don’t let things be weird between us...I rally myself, determined not to let us take a backward step.
“Coffee?” he asks as I sit down at the breakfast bar.
“Please. Last night was so much fun.” I inject warmth into my tone, keeping it light and friendly. “I was so wasted, though. I hope I didn’t make too much of a tit out of myself. I had to hunt out Tylenol earlier. How are you feeling?”
“Okay.” He nods and scratches the back of his neck, his body twisted toward the coffee machine.
He’s wearing a rumpled gray T-shirt. I think he might’ve slept in it.
Youarebeautiful, Wren.
I steel myself against memories that make my heart flip.
“Did you sleep okay? You look tired,” I say.
“I am a bit. Cream? Sugar?”
“Yes, please. Two.”
I’d take three because I’m hungover, but I resist.
“How about we go out for breakfast?” I suggest. “I could do with a nice greasy fry-up. Do you have to work this morning?”
“No. I wouldn’t mind heading back to the farm sooner rather than later, though.”
“Had enough of the big city already?” I ask with a grin.
Perhaps he’s had enough ofme. Oh.
He shrugs and gives me a small smile.
Was he just being kind last night? Was that the sort of thing he’d say to any female friend to make them feel better? I’m scared I’ve been reading too much into the looks we’ve shared.
“We can go whenever you’re ready,” I say. “I can come back another time.”
“Let’s go out for breakfast,” he decides suddenly. “There’s a place on the corner that I think you’ll like.”
I like that he knows what I’ll like.
