“Think about it. You don’t have to rush, but you’re welcome to crash.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Jesse.”
“I just want to see you happy. I knew something was up with you. You’re always smiling, and the past couple of months, I haven’t seen that gorgeous smile.”
He stopped his sentence short, as if he’d said more than he had intended to, but I barely noticed because I was once again blushing from head to toe. I stared straight ahead, embarrassed and delighted at the same time. He thought my smile was gorgeous? The chant was back in my head: “Holy fuck! He likes my smile! Holy fuck! He likes my smile!”
“It’s strange that my closest friends haven’t noticed, but you have,” I said, sidestepping the “gorgeous” comment even though I didn’t want to.
“I’m trained to look for signs of depression.”
“You think I’m depressed?” I asked.
He ran a hand through his hair. “No,” he said. “I just meant that I knew you weren’t yourself, and I am always on the lookout for ways I can help people.”
“That’s really sweet,” I said, still refusing to look over at him. I leaned my head back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. At least this way I didn’t have to look at him and feel that buzz in my head that came with his masculine attractiveness.
“That’s me,” he said, leaning back and staring at the ceiling with me. “Anything interesting up there?” he asked.
I chuckled.
“Enough talking?” he asked.
“For tonight, I think so. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m glad to help a friend.” Again I noticed how he pronounced that last word. There was a definite emphasis there, and I just wondered if it was for his benefit or my own.
He flicked on that enormous flat screen television of his that was anchored to the wall, and he downed the rest of his beer. He set the empty bottle on the coffee table and then proceeded to let out a giant, ripe, completely disgusting belch.
He looked over at me and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.” He waved his hand in front of his face as if to get rid of the stench, but the nastiness had already invaded my nostrils.
I giggled through my disgust. “That’s revolting,” I said, waving my hand as I wrinkled my nose.
He looked over at me and laughed. “You look completely disgusted right now.”
I smacked him in the arm. “I am. That was gross.”
“My bad,” he chuckled, and I laughed as I warmed over at how comfortable things already were between us. He settled back into the couch, and I suddenly felt completely exhausted. The long week finally caught up with me, as it always did on Friday nights. My eyes wouldn’t stay open as Jesse flipped through the channels, and I snuggled into his side, my head dropping onto his shoulder involuntarily as I was drawn to him even in my sleep.
CHAPTER 3
When I first woke up, it took me a moment to remember where I was, and as that masculine Christmas smell invaded my senses, I remembered: I had slept in Jesse Drake’s bed.
Okay, his guest bed if we were being technical.
I smiled to myself. What a perfect night the night before had been. I replayed our talk, all the times he’d found a reason to touch me, the flirting that wasn’t full of pressure but still felt nice, the comfort of a man that I’d been missing for so long.
Oh, man. If I was crushing on Jesse before when we were just friends, I knew I was in serious trouble now that I was staying over at his house.
I contemplated the offer he’d extended the night before. Crashing at Jesse’s place had its definite pros. For one, I’d be getting out of my tension filled home and starting the process of moving on with my life. And for another thing, I’d get to gawk at the gorgeous Jesse Drake as much as I wanted. Wait, that wasn’t a good reason to crash at his place. But the first reason was. Right?
I stretched lazily, realizing how well-rested I felt. I hadn’t been sleeping well since… well, probably since our one year anniversary when I started to face the fact that things were over between Richard and me. The previous night felt like the best night’s sleep I’d had in a long time, and as I rolled over to grab my cell phone to see what time it was, I was suddenly curious how I even got into this bed. The last thing I remembered was watching Jesse flip through the channels and feeling his firm shoulder under my ear as I fell asleep on his couch.
God, I hoped I hadn’t snored. How embarrassing.
A glance at the clock told me it was just before noon.
Shit.
I was a guest in someone else’s home, and I’d slept until almost noon.