Or maybe he’s gone—to work, to the store, to the library, forChrist’s sake—and I can sneak away without facing the morning-after chat.
Because I’msonot ready for that one yet. Probably never. To look in his face and see regret? Yeah, that’s a whole new level of pain.
The second I step out of his room, I know my plan is dead in the water.
Eddie stands at the stove, a spatula in one hand, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweats slung low on his hips, looking so effortlessly gorgeous that it’s downright unfair.
Plus, I know what’s hiding beneath those sweats.
Libido, please shut the hell up. Now is not the time, and if my radar is correct, there isn’t going to be another one. That ship has sailed.
Eddie catches sight of me as a slow, knowing smirk spreads across his face. “Morning.”
I hold up my hand in greeting. “Hi.”
He motions to the kitchen table with his spatula. “Are you going to sit down or hang out across the apartment?”
“I was going to go.” I motion toward his front door, noting that my purse is sitting on the end table. In one piece. Great, he did embark on a tampon treasure hunt.
The man deserves a medal.
His brow arches. “It’s a long walk, Kiki.”
Shit. That’s right. He’s my ride.
“Come on. Have a seat.”
I slink into the kitchen and perch on the edge of the chair, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.
God, why am I like this? Oh, that’s right. I don’t have random sex with my guy friends.
Fine. Random, incredible, blow my mind sex with the hottest man I know.
Still, that was then, and this is… bright.
I chance a glance at him, and it’s then I see them. A series of unmistakable scratches litter the length of his back.
“Are those from me?” I stumble over the words, my cheeks once again beet red.
Eddie chuckles, running a hand over the set decorating his shoulder. “Who else would they be from?”
I shrug, attempting to look unaffected. Yep, I fail miserably. “I don’t know how often you do this, but I’m not very good at the whole morning-after walk of shame.”
Eddie stills, resting the spatula on the spoon rest before turning to me, his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you ashamed of what happened between us?”
“Oh God, not what I meant. At all.” Apparently, my brain is still sleeping off the hangover, because I cannot, for the life of me, form a single coherent sentence. “That is not… shit… I didn’t…”
Fantastic work, Kiki. Really nailing this speech.
Words keep coming, but they’re useless, half-formed things, tripping over each other on the way out like a malfunctioning machine that needs a reset.
I bury my face in my hands. Just say it. Just say the damn words aloud. He already knows.
With a sigh, I lift my head and meet his gaze. “I don’t regret it. At all. I just figure you do.”
Eddie scratches the scruff lining his jaw, considering my words. “Hmm.”
Hmm? That’s his answer?
