Every Kiss(20)

Not caring to fight for the perfect temperature, I just aim for somewhere in the neighborhood of boiling hot and step in, squealing as it stings my skin and then groaning because it actually feels good. I lather my hair and body and rinse until I’m clear of not only soap, but tension, too. Even though my head is still pounding, I feel refreshed when I step out and pull on my clean clothes—a pair of black running shorts and my slightly wrinkled Breaking Benjamin t-shirt.

It takes a while to get my long hair free of tangles, but in the end, I opt to pile it all on top of my head in a messy bun. I don’t have the heart or motivation to deal with it today. And instead of putting my contacts back in, I slip on my glasses. The lenses are narrow rectangles, thickly framed in glossy espresso. I rarely wear them, but I always appreciate how well they match the low lights in the bottom layers of my blonde hair.

After brushing my teeth—twice—I begin shoving everything back into my bag, but I freeze when I see movement at my right. I turn toward the open door, and the realization that it’s been open the entire time I’ve been in here makes my head pound even more. Wes is in his bed. And looking right at me.

“How long have you been awake?” I ask, praying to all that is holy that it was after I got dressed.

“A while.” His sleepy voice is gravelly. Deep.

All I can do is stand here with my hands on my hips and gape at him. What do I say to that?

“You know,” he begins, seemingly unfazed by my embarrassment. “You looked nice yesterday, but I like this look better.”

“Now is not the time to joke around with me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Not joking. I’m dead serious. Your wild hair, the glasses, the band shirt, bare feet . . . it looks good on you. I’m not the type to say shit I don’t mean.”

If I didn’t know what to say before, I certainly don’t now. And this is totally not like me at all. I’m never speechless. I never blush. Why in the hell does he affect me like that?

“You’re a little testy this morning. Hangover?” He rolls onto his back and rests his hands behind his head, leaving his chest exposed and causing a little flutter in my stomach.

“Yes.” Finally, the real me decides to break out. “I have to know. Did you see the whole show or did you wake up after I was dressed?”

He huffs out a little laugh and rolls back to his side, folding the blankets back and standing. Inside my head, I’m screaming and bouncing around like a psycho cheerleader. He’s a nude sleeper apparently. Wes stands and walks into his closet, bare-assed and completely gorgeous, and he yanks some jersey knit pants from the shelf and steps into them before walking into the bathroom like it’s no big deal.

“Now we’re even, sweetheart.” He taps me on the nose and turns to a cabinet on the wall, extracting a bottle of pain relievers and pouring some into his hand. “Open.”

I’m too stunned at the moment to resist his orders, so I drop my jaw, creating just enough of an opening for him to place to pills on my tongue. Wes takes a paper cup from a dispenser, fills it with water, and hands it to me. After I wash down the pills, he takes it back from me and does the same.

“Thank you,” I say softly.

“Least I can do since it’s partly my fault.” Wes squeezes toothpaste onto his brush and begins scrubbing his teeth. “And I figure I owe you for the birthday wish come true,” he says with a mouth full of suds.

I slap my hands over my mouth. “Oh! I forgot you kissed me!”

He rinses his mouth and pats it dry. “That memorable, huh? But don’t forget you kissed me back.”

Horror floods into me. “Please tell me that’s all I forgot.”

“I remember a few other things.”

I sink onto the side of the tub. My head is whirling, but I don’t think it’s the hangover causing it. “Never in my life. I’ve never forgotten sex before. I didn’t realize I was that drunk, though. Was I horrible?”

“If we’d had sex, sweetheart, I’m damn sure you wouldn’t forget it.” Wes kneels in front of me. “You fell asleep. I was holding you after we kissed a while, and you passed smooth out. It wasn’t easy carrying you with both of us wet, but I somehow got you in bed after fighting you to get your t-shirt back on. I normally don’t stay overnight here, and I was going to have someone drive me home, but I was afraid you’d get sick. So I left both bathroom doors open, so I could hear if you got up, and I went to bed. That just about sums it up.”

“Seriously? I think I would’ve rather had you tell me that we had kinky sex in the pool house instead. I’m mortified that I was so drunk that I passed out. It was your birthday, and you had to take care of me.”