The universe had spoken.
2
Armando
I woke up with a pounding headache and a mountain of regret. The night before was a blur. What had I been thinking when I drank all that champagne? And did I do anything to embarrass my son at his wedding reception? If so, I’d never forgive myself.
There was a fancy bottle of imported water and some Advil on the nightstand. I was surprised I’d planned ahead like that. I wrapped the blanket around myself and sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
After taking a couple of pills and chugging most of the water, I considered going back to sleep. But as I looked around, something seemed off. My son and his new husband had gifted me with a beautiful room at the hotel where they’d gotten married. Now it looked even bigger than I remembered it. And how had I failed to notice the wet bar? I was too groggy to make sense of any of this.
A moment later, a huge, muscular man emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel, which was slung low around his hips. I drew a sharp breath and tried to stand up, but I tripped over the blanket and ended up face-planting on the carpet.
The man muttered, “Bloody hell,” and rushed over to me. As he helped me sit up, he asked, “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Why are you in my room?”
He sat back on his heels. “Actually, you’re in my room. Do you remember anything about last night?”
“Did we have sex?”
“Of course not. You were drunk, and I’d never take advantage of you.”
Bits and pieces of the night before started coming back to me—a cab, a café, a few clumsy attempts at hitting on this guy. “You’re Tory.”
“That’s right.”
“I don’t remember everything, but I know you were nice to me, while I was completely ridiculous.” I untangled myself from the blanket and got to my feet. There was some bedding on the couch across the room, so I said, “It looks like I capped off my drunken shenanigans by kicking you out of your own bed.”
He stood up and muttered, “Not exactly.”
A wave of embarrassment hit me as I remembered a few more details. “No, you’re right. What I actually did was try to climb you like a tree after you told me I could spend the night in your room. I guess you tucked me into bed after I passed out, and then you slept on the couch.”
“That sums it up.” Just then, there was a knock at the door. “I ordered room service before I took a shower. Come have some coffee with me.”
I mumbled, “I need a minute,” and hurried to the bathroom.
After I used the toilet and washed my hands, I frowned at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. I looked pale and tired, and what the hell was my hair doing? I’d tried to style it with gel for the wedding, and it had turned into a clumpy, spiky mess.
As I tamped it down with some water, I flashed on a memory of Tory combing my hair and washing my cheek. I’d never hadanyone take care of me like that. I’d never even realized it was something I liked, but now it sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine.
I whispered, “Get a grip, Armando,” and started to leave the bathroom, but then I hurried back to the sink and used some of his mouthwash. I’d already made a terrible impression on this guy. Why add gnarly morning breath to the mix?
By the time I returned to the bedroom, Tory had gotten dressed in a pair of gym shorts and a form-fitting black T-shirt. He’d also cleared away the bedding and taken a seat on the couch.
No wonder my drunken alter ego had kept hitting on him. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen—and now that I was sober, that was extremely intimidating.
My hoodie was draped over the back of a chair, and as I put it on, he asked, “How do you feel?”
I considered the question before saying, “When I woke up, it felt like my head had been run over by a garbage truck. Now it feels like it’s been run over by a Ford Fiesta. So… better, I guess?”
He grinned a little. “That’s progress, I suppose.” His slight accent was unique, and as sexy as the rest of him. It sounded sort of British, but also vaguely Italian. Britalian, maybe?
I fidgeted with the hoodie’s zipper, and after an awkward pause I mumbled, “I’m so sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?”
“Because I hijacked your entire night and made you deal with my drunken bullshit.”
