“How’d you manage that?” I ask.
Nick just laughs. “No idea. I don’t remember anything after I licked that body shot off of Poppy.”
He leans against the counter and runs a hand through his dark hair, which is sticking out in every direction. He’s not wearing a shirt. Just a pair of gym shorts and one sock.
“If you woke up with all your clothes on, where’s your shirt?” I ask.
He scratches his bare chest as he yawns. “Poppy was cold, so I gave it to her.”
“Does she want some coffee?” I ask.
“Nah, she’s sleeping.”
I grab two mugs from the cabinet and set them on the counter.
Nick dumps a bunch of creamer in his mug. “What happened to Briar last night? I didn’t see her after she left in the middle of our drinking game.”
“She wasn’t feeling well. She went to bed.”
“She okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.” I don’t like lying to Nick, but I don’t want to tell him what really happened. Briar wouldn’t want me to.
I think about what she said last night, that pained look on her face. How her cheeks flushed bright red because she was so embarrassed to admit that she was a virgin.
Even though there’s no reason for her to be embarrassed. There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin.
I was going to tell her that, but she walked off.
My chest aches just thinking about it. I hated seeing her like that.
I thought about going after her to check on her, but I could tell she wanted to be alone. I didn’t want to push her.
I didn’t even go to my bedroom last night when everyone left the party. I crashed on the couch because I wanted to give her space.
Nick thanks me for the coffee, then heads back to his bedroom. I slump against the kitchen counter and huff out a sharp breath.
I’m finishing my drink when I hear soft footsteps down the stairs. I look up and see Briar standing at the end of the kitchen, her eyes shy as she looks at me.
When I see what she’s wearing, my heart pounds in my chest.
Oh, damn.
She’s wearing my hoodie.
It’s way too big for her and hits her at her knees. The neckline hangs off her shoulder, showing a sliver of her creamy skin.
I clear my throat. “Hey,” I say, trying to sound normal and not totally thrown off at how fucking cute she looks wearing my clothes.
“Hey,” she says, her voice soft and shy. She eyes the coffee pot. “Is there any coffee left?”
“Yeah, I made plenty. Here.”
I grab a mug and pour her a cup. For a minute, we stand there in the kitchen, quietly sipping our drinks. Briar shuffles her bare feet and glances down at the ground. I can’t help but stare at her. Her long, blonde hair is messy, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. My breath gets stuck in my throat at how pretty she is.
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her in the morning. I know how cute she looks when she’s sleepy and a little disheveled.
But seeing her wearing my hoodie in the morning, right after she wakes up, does something to me. It makes my skin hot. It makes my heart beat faster. It makes me wish she would wear my clothes, nothing else, all the time because she’s so fucking adorable in them.
