Sighing, I reach for the tap in the shower to let the water run, hopefully drowning out the sound of my voice from Hank, the eavesdropper.
"Nothing else?" Is she always this pushy or am I too hungover to deal with anything or anyone today?
"No. Why? What happened?" I try so hard to not be frustrated, but it’s nearly impossible, given the self-inflicted pain I feel.
She’s silent for what feels like an entire minute before responding.
"Nothing. Hey, do you think Harley is cute?" I could’ve sworn that Bea was a lesbian, so hearing her talk about a guy this way catches me off guard.
"Uh, yes, you know I do."
"Okay, gotta go. Bye!"
I’m not even going to attempt to dissect that conversation.
I just know I need a cold shower and mouthwash to remove the taste of vodka, mixed with vomit, from my mouth.
I have no memory of actually puking, but I text Bea to find out for sure.
Me:Did I puke last night?
Bea: Yep.
Me:Did you hold my hair back?
Bea:Not me, but I know someone didn’t make it out vomit free hahaha
Me:What do you mean? Please tell me I didn’t vomit on anyone.
Bea:K then I won’t tell you.
Me:Who do I need to apologize to?
Bea: Wingrove.
Shit.
nineteen
Cassandra
Knocking on Harley’s officedoor, I get an immediate sense of déjà vu and I almost back away entirely. Even though it’s been a whole four days since mysex dream,I can’t avoid him forever.
And unfortunately, today is one of the two days in the month that he’s actually in the office. That, and we’re traveling to California tonight for Jenna’s birthday party tomorrow, so it’s inevitable that I see him.
Hearing a muffled "come in", I open the door quickly, making eye contact with a topless Harley, where he looks at me like a deer in the headlights.
Surely, I’m dreaming again.
Iknowa shirtless Harley isn’t standing directly in front of me.
I should peel my eyes away, but I can’t seem to do it.
I don’twantto do it.
In my mind, I’d pictured his body almost identical to this. I wish I was close enough to touch him, just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming again.
His pants sit higher around his waist with his belt well and truly done up, unlike it was in my dream. My eyes flick quickly past his perfectly sculpted torso, skimming past his eight-pack, noticing a subtle scar near the right side of his collarbone, before finding his eyes as they search my face.
