“Well, I have nothing on underneath it.”
“It fits you like a dress, and anyway, I saw everything last night. I meaneverything.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
I leaned over and socked him in the arm. “Don’t do that to me. I’m embarrassed enough.”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of, except for maybe your attempt at a half-naked pirouette in the hallway at three a.m.”
I dropped my face into my hands and groaned. “Noooo. Ugh.”
“It was actually really cute. You ran into the wall and starting cracking up.”
The moment Ling had called, Gavin was still blurry in my mind.Had he just come rushing over? Was he sitting around waiting for her call? Did he roofie me?
“What were you doing when Ling called?”
“I was working on a paper and messing around on my guitar. I had just gotten into bed when she called.”
Oh, the image of him getting into bed... “Working on a paper, my ass.”
“No, I swear. I have to graduate, Penny. I’m twenty-three.”
“What did Ling say when she called?”
“I believe her exact words were, ‘Tiny Dancer can’t hold her liquor and my cat pooped on my couch, so can you get your hot butt over here and help?’ ”
“And you just jumped in your car and came to get me.”
“Yes. That’s exactly right. You’re welcome. Now come on, let’s go eat.” He put down the guitar and yanked me out of bed. As we walked through his apartment toward the kitchen, I shuffled behind him while tugging at the bottom of my T-shirt. He pointed to the couch. “That’s where I slept.”
There’s no way his entire body fit on that couch.
“See, Penny? Already so many sacrifices I’ve made for our friendship. My feet hang two feet off that thing.”
We moved toward the breakfast bar. I sat on a stool while he went around to the other side to serve up his homemade French toast. He’d already sifted powdered sugar and added sliced-up strawberries to the plates, which made my heart and stomach do a little somersault. “Impressive,” I said.
“You don’t have to eat all of it but you should put something in your stomach.”
“Okay.” My hangover was starting to really kick in. “This looks delicious but I feel awful.”
“What were you drinking last night? Tequila?”
“And beer.” I ate half the French toast and pushed the plate away. Gavin immediately grabbed it and set it in the sink.
“You need a little hair of the dog and a nap while your clothes dry.” He started moving around the kitchen, whipping something up. A few minutes later, he handed me a glass full of tomato juice.
“Uhhh, what’s this?”
He looked at me like I was an alien. “A Bloody Mary. Duh.” I had never had one before. It looked disgusting but I drank it anyway while he went to the basement to put my clothes in the dryer. It worked. I started feeling more relaxed and my headache was fading. I walked around his apartment, looking at the random artwork everywhere. I finished the drink, used his toothbrush, then went into his room just as I heard him coming in the door. On his nightstand was a copy of an engineering magazine and the Kurt Vonnegut bookBreakfast of Champions.
He reads.
Burying myself under the blankets on his bed, I feigned sleep. I could feel him as he entered the room. He didn’t want to wake me.
He cares about me.
He tiptoed around the bed and grabbed a guitar. He reached down and straightened the blankets so they were covering my feet. I couldn’t help but smile. He caught it.
“Faker,” he whispered.
