He almost smiled. “You don’t have alcohol poisoning.”
“But what if I do?”
“How much did you end up drinking?”
Her eyebrows scrunched together like she was having a hard time with the mental math. “Two and a half.”
“Two and a half what?”
“Glasses of wine.”
Her eyes were still closed, so he didn’t try to curb his grin. “You’ll be fine, Annie.”
“Will you stay anyway?” she murmured. “Just until I fall asleep?”
He knew he should say no. He already felt too overwhelmed, too vulnerable. But he couldn’t bring himself to admit it. All he could do was stare down at her, how her long lashes skimmed her cheeks, how her lips were already a little parted with sleep.
He reached out and finally brushed a lock of her golden hair from her forehead and sighed. “Yeah. I’ll stay.”
CHAPTER 19
There was no denying it: Anne was hungover. She had barely opened her eyes when the headache began pounding, each throb sending flashes of last night’s dinner party to her prefrontal cortex like she was scrolling through a social media feed. She winced and turned her face into the pillow.
God, why had she drunk so much? She had promised herself she would only have one glass, but the pinot just kept coming. Then all she remembered was laughing with James, inhaling Ellis’s cake, and acting like a complete and utter fool in front of everyone, including Freddie.
Her eyes shot open into the dimly lit room.
That’s right, Freddie Wentworth was there. At Ellis’s birthday party.
No no no no.Her mind flew back over what she could remember, trying to pinpoint if she had said anything embarrassing. It was a blur of wine and cake and laughter, but she was having a hard time recalling any crystalline moments.
She had to call James. He was the only person who would tellher if she had done something mortifying. Well, also Bev, but Anne knew that she didn’t answer her cell.
The room was fairly dark thanks to the lack of windows, so Anne groped the top of her nightstand, searching for her phone.
Then something shifted on the bed beside her.
She froze, taking a moment to let her eyes adjust, then slowly looked over to the other side of the bed.
Freddie was sprawled out on top of her comforter, still fully clothed in his jeans and sweater, hands clasped over his chest. He was asleep, his mouth slightly ajar and each breath punctuated by a slight purr.
With lightning-fast reflexes, she lifted the covers to check what she was wearing.
Oh thank God. Her oldTrails End CampT-shirt and a pair of black underwear.
She shut her eyes and exhaled a breath of relief that she was clothed, retreating under her comforter again.
Freddie probably wanted to make sure she didn’t puke before she passed out. That made the most logical sense. But why was hestillhere?
She snuck another glance at him. It was crazy to think she used to have unfiltered access to this view. Obviously not. Otherwise, why would she be so in awe of the slight curve of his full lips, or how his soft brown hair was mussed? It was all eerily familiar, but still completely new.
Suddenly her phone let out a loud PING from the nightstand.
Anne jumped just as Freddie’s eyes shot open. It took a moment for his gaze to focus, but when it did, it found hers. Frozen in place, they took each other in for one long, drawn-out second.
Then came another PING.
“Let me… just…” She reached over to her phone to check the screen.
