Page 29 of Dandelion Sighs

Chapter Nine

Sheridan

I peeled my eyes open.

The bed smelled like cedar and pine and the sheets were navy blue instead of blush. Where was I?

I sat up and my head spun. The thudding made me squeeze my eyes shut. I pressed my fingertips to my temples. Ugh. This sucked.

Squinting as if the small amount of light sneaking around the shades was a full-on assault from the sun, my gaze landed on the end table. There was a new toothbrush, a bottle of water, and a container of acetaminophen.

I was at Jasper’s house.

“…we’ll talk about how this nice guy wants to…”

I blinked. Did I imagine that confession?

He was just making me feel better. I was drunk and being a realist, and he thought I was being down on myself. Jasper was like that. But the things he said…

I guzzled the water, experienced a fresh wave of dizziness, and popped some meds. I inhaled, and the savory smell of breakfast cooking hit my nose. There went my plan of sneaking out and saving face.

It wasn’t like I could avoid him.

I looked down at myself. I was in a large KCC shirt that smelled like the sheets. Like him. His clothing. He’d set it out for me to sleep in, and thankfully, I hadn’t whipped my shirt off in front of him. I didn’t want to change, but I needed to freshen up. I took the toothbrush, my clothing from the top of the dresser, and poked my head out of the room. There was an empty hallway and kitchen sounds. I scurried to the bathroom across the hall.

Only a little of my mascara had smudged. My saving grace was not waking up in a “Who Did It Better” contest with a raccoon. I’d take it. I didn’t wear much makeup otherwise. Making a quick decision, I figured a shower was best. I might have to put my clothes back on, but it was better than nothing.

I ran through the shower, using the products that smelled like him. Almost as good as wearing his shirt. I toweled off the best I could and brushed my teeth. The mirror showed a wan reflection, but pink was fusing into my cheeks from moving around. I finger-combed my curls. There was probably a hair tie in my car.

After tidying as much as I could in the bathroom and bedroom, I braved the trek to the kitchen. This could’ve been a walk of shame, but he’d taken care of me. I’d been drunk and lonely, and he’d tucked me right into bed.

Jasper leaned against the counter, thumbing through his phone. Heat wound through me. How was he more attractive? His disheveled hair only made him seem more approachable, like I could ask just what he meant when he said⁠—

Now was not the time.

He lifted his gaze off his screen. Concern crinkled the corners of his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Like I could get tipsy again and forget about everything for another blissful night with him. But the reality was too stark. “About the drink or that I might lose everything to some developer?”

He grimaced. None of my drama was his issue, but he was affected because of me.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to put this on you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” His smile was kind. “You have enough on your mind. Hungry?”

My stomach cramped. No, I wasn’t, but I needed food or I’d feel sicker. There was a ton on my mind, but nothing that required me running out on a breakfast he’d made me. “I should eat.”

“Have a seat.” He gestured to the table.

I did, and I was served scrambled eggs, ham, and hash browns. He sat in the chair next to me.

“Is this all homemade?” I asked as I dug in. Oh my god, was this guy good at everything? The eggs were fluffy and perfect with the ham, and the hash browns were the right level of crispy. He cooked the hangover medicine I needed.

“I’ve been a bachelor too long not to know how to cook.” He was mixing all the food together on his plate.

“But the hash browns aren’t store-bought.”

“I had a couple of potatoes I needed to use.”