Page 35 of Sundown Somewhere

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

Hux’s deep timbre is both the most welcome sound I’ve ever heard and a shock to my system all at the same time. I take a second, letting his words and cadence sink in. He doesn’t sound annoyed. Quite the opposite actually. He sounds amused.

“Hi.”

“How ya feelin’?”

I grunt. That’s a stupid question. The real question right now is if I look as bad as I feel. Glancing down, I discover I did—somehow—make it into my pajamas. Although I won’t lie, I have no idea how. Oh shit, did Hux put me in my pajamas? Fuck, that’s embarrassing.

“I’m not quite sure,” I answer honestly.

“There’s a caramel macchiato on the table next to you.” He nods. “And a plain croissant.”

Sweet, glorious heaven. This man is a god among men.

I reach over for the coffee, the heat from it radiating through the paper cup enough to warm my hand still, and slowly slip. Damn, that’s good.

Still, I can’t bring myself to look up. To look Hux in the eye. Not after what happened. Or what I remember. Shit, what if there’s more?

If there is, I don’t want to know.

Tears prick the corners of my eyes, all my emotions swirling together, fighting for top spot, colliding in a mess that doesn’t have a name. Overwhelming—that’s what we’ll call it. And it’s more than enough to make a girl cry. Especially while her head throbs.

“I should get up,” I say, my voice having almost no power to it, warbling from the tears. “Whatever you have planned for today I’m sure doesn’t include me crying in bed.”

I take a big sip of my coffee, savoring it for a moment, the brief interruption to the residual tequila flavor still lingering in my mouth more than welcome, before throwing the sheets off me. The cool air hits my skin, making it pebble, and I instantly regret my choice.

“There’s nothing on the docket that can’t be moved or canceled if you would prefer to stay in.”

“Nope, it’s fine.”

I force myself out of bed, my body aching down to the bones, screaming at me to get back in. I don’t listen though, telling it that a good, hot shower will make things better. It’s a lie, and we both know it, but I push on anyway.

This is how my life is right now. One bad moment after the next. And I need to put it behind me.

“Dolly…”

A shiver rips down my spine. That’s Hux’s warning tone. The one he uses with his brothers when they are about to push a button that they don’t want to push. It’s usually accompanied by a huff, complete with flared nostrils, but unfortunately lacking actual fire breathing.

It’s also never been used to say my name.

“Huxley.”

Walking into the bathroom, I grab my toothbrush, adding a generous helping of toothpaste to the bristles. I have got to make this tequila taste go away. A large, looming shadow falls over me as I brush, Hux’s lumberjack figure filling up the whole bathroom door. He leans against the jamb, arms outstretched across the doorway, making it tough for me to escape.

Fine, he wants to watch me pee, he can…

He wants to make this awkward, I’ll make this awkward. Then maybe he can experience a small piece of the distress I’m feeling. Only without this headache. Because I’m sure Hux was smart enough not to drink his weight in hard alcohol last night.

Ever the gentleman though, he turns around, letting me have a moment of privacy, even if he doesn’t leave me alone completely. I don’t know what he thinks is going to happen to me in here, but he clearly feels the need to be right at my side. Something that is really annoying when the only thing you want is to burrow into the ground and die of sheer embarrassment.

And he hasn’t even mentioned the kiss yet.

“There’s ibuprofen in my case,” he says, back still turned to me as I turn the faucet on to wash my hands.

“Thanks,” I mutter. Ibuprofen is a good call. My head will probably want some of those.

Glancing up, I catch myself in the mirror. Hair tangled and going in every direction, smeared makeup—complete with smudged eyeliner running down my cheek—and more lipstick outside of my lips than on, I look like the definition of train wreck.