Mack Daddy(46)
It was her.
It had always been her.
PAST
The room was spinning when I opened my eyes the next morning and reached for one of the pairs of glasses stashed away in my nightstand.
All I remembered was that I’d gotten a tattoo and that I’d had way too much to drink at the club on Lansdowne Street. Everything else was a blur.
My heart nearly skipped a beat when I noticed Mack lying next to me in bed. He had no shirt on, although he never usually slept in a shirt. He’d also never slept in my bed.
Holy shit. Mack was in my bed. Next to me.
He had one arm over his head, showcasing his armpit. I’d never realized that I could find a man’s underarm hair so sexy until this up-close look at Mack’s. It was just another example of my unwavering attraction to his virile beauty.
I looked down at myself to find I was dressed in an oversized T-shirt I rarely wore. Where did he even find it? At least, it covered the tops of my thighs, seeing as though I wasn’t wearing pants.
Where were my pants?
I was relieved to see I had underwear on, but it wasn’t the pair I’d worn yesterday.
What happened last night?
I nudged his shoulder. “Mack?”
“Mmm,” he moaned before turning around. His voice was groggy. “How are you feeling?”
My stomach ached, and my mouth was devoid of all moisture. “Like crap.”
“I figured that.”
“What are you doing in my bed?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No.”
“What’s the last thing you remember from last night?”
“Being with you at the club.”
Mack sat up and leaned back against the headboard. “I’m in bed because after the shower, you begged me to lie next to you. You said you were scared to be alone.”
My stomach dropped. “The shower?”
He rubbed his eyes and laughed a little. “Nothing happened, Frankie. We both got pretty drunk last night. We danced a lot. I carried you home from the club, we talked candidly a little when we got home, and then you puked on both of us. So, I had to wash you off in the shower.”
“What does ‘talked candidly’ mean exactly?”
“It doesn’t matter. You were drunk. Anything you said…anything we both said…can be chalked up to that.”
My mind was now backtracking through what he’d told me. “Wait. I was naked in the shower? I took off my clothes?”
“You sort of had to, because you were covered in vomit. We both were. You needed my help. You couldn’t stand up straight. I was afraid you’d slip in the shower and crack your head open.”
“You saw me naked?”
Mack hesitated. “Yes.”
Covering my face, I said, “Oh, my God. I’m so embarrassed.”
“Believe me, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“This is not how I wanted your last day to be, both of us hungover.”
“Yesterday was the best day I could’ve ever asked for. It was like a hot mess I’ll never forget.” His words seemed sincere.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“Believe me, I don’t want to go. We overslept. Now, I only have like two hours before I have to leave for the airport.”
I glanced over at the clock. “Shit. I wanted to make you breakfast, but I don’t think I can stomach the smell of food.”
“I’m not that hungry anyway. I’ll grab something at Logan.” Mack’s eyes landed on my lower body. “You need to look at your tattoo. You still don’t even know what you got.”
“I guess I should, huh?” I laughed, lifting myself off the bed as a fresh wave of nausea hit me.
Mack followed me as I walked over to the oval, floor-length mirror in the corner of my room. He came up behind me and slowly lifted my T-shirt up to just above my belly button. His taking the initiative to partially undress me seemed like a brazen move. But it was certainly indicative of a shift in our relationship after last night.
The closeness of his body sent shivers down my spine. For a moment, I felt self-conscious that he’d see me in my underwear, but then it hit me that he’d seen a lot more of me last night.
Slowly ripping the bandage off, he said, “I hope you like it.” The touch of his fingertips grazing over my lower back caused me to close my eyes momentarily.
I reluctantly turned my head around to look in the mirror. My mouth curved into a smile upon the sight of a beautiful blue flower about the size of a golf ball. It was better than anything I would have chosen for myself.
“It’s beautiful. What kind of flower is that?”
“It’s a lotus flower.”