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Oz’s confusion deepened as his cheeks heated and he mumbled an apology. He stepped away before I could apologize. He grabbed the quilt and wrapped it around himself. “Come on, BooBear,” Oz said to his dog, who was doing the all-too-familiar piddle dance. He led the animal to the front door and let her out.
Xander was glaring at me, but I ignored him. I already knew I’d been a dick.
“Why are you here?” I asked him as Oz remained by the door to watch Boo do her thing.
“Nice to see you too, buddy,” my good friend said. “Looks like the power came back on at some point this morning, so sounds like maybe I should get some coffee on while you go wash your face and put on a fresh personality.”
But before I could even head to the bedroom to do just that, Oz strode that way, his dog padding along behind him.
He didn’t look at me even once.
Not that I could blame him.
Not even a little bit.
Chapter 7
Oz
So, new fun fact… hangovers in New York definitely beat hangovers in Colorado.
Hands down.
Because a hangover in New York meant waking up well after noon and having Zoey bring me my favorite tea and a side of ibuprofen. Since I only ever partied with Zoey–a lesson I’d learned after getting my drunk on once with a jealous model who’d tried to blackmail me with a sex tape if I didn’t introduce him to Calvin Klein–we’d always end up back at her apartment when the night ended. As someone who wasn’t a big drinker herself, Zoey would let me sleep in while she prepared her famous hangover remedy tea, and we’d lie under the covers of her bed and talk about the events of the night before. When I was feeling better, I’d cap off my rare indulgence in alcohol with a mid-afternoon “breakfast” that included a Belgian waffle as big as my head and a side of greasy fries from a diner near my agent’s office. I’d always have to go incognito, of course, but that was the fun of it. After all, Laird absolutely could not be seen snarfing down a million calories of pure carbs.
Hangovers in Colorado sucked rocks.
Big time.
While waking up draped across a warm bundle of muscles that smelled like my dream come true hadn’t been so bad, getting my ass tossed on the floor before I could even take a minute for a proper sniff had been the epitome of humiliating.
Oh, except for the fact that there’d been a witness to the whole thing.
Yeah, facing Xander would be fun at Thanksgiving.
Crap, what if Jake was there? It stood to reason that he would be.
How had life ended up this complicated? I’d come to Haven for peace and quiet so I could focus on my work.
As I entered Jake’s bedroom, the events of the night before began to come back to me piece by piece. My clothes were strewn all over the floor, and I vaguely recalled waking up in the middle of the night to pee. I’d been too out of it to truly appreciate the fact that I’d been lying sprawled out on top of Jake’s body and hadn’t even considered how I’d ended up there. But as I’d stripped and prepared to slide into Jake’s bed, I’d wondered why the hell I was going to get into a cold bed when there was a very hot man on the sofa. I’d quickly returned to the living room to curl up against my very own living, breathing furnace.
Yeah, I hadn’t been in my right mind. Clearly, lying half-naked on the straight guy was frowned upon.
Another point for New York. At least a sore bottom out there would be for the right reasons. Only in Haven would my ass be smarting from being dumped on the floor by my hot, rude–okay, mostly rude–neighbor who didn’t know how to politely ask the local single gay guy not to climb him like a tree.
As I began pulling my clothes on, a memory of Jake holding me in his arms surfaced.
You’re going to come back stronger and harder and you’re going to show them all that they misjudged you. Because you’re so much more than a goddamned beautiful face, Oz.
I stilled because there was just no way that part had been real, right?
Right?
Once I was dressed, I opened the door to the bedroom just in time to hear Xander ask, “So, you and the new guy, huh?” His voice was light and teasing.
“No. Don’t be ridiculous,” Jake mumbled. He sounded annoyed by the implication instead of taking it as the joke it clearly was. “The damned furnace tripped the breaker again. You need to get that shit fixed or else I’m going to have a new roommate all winter. I didn’t sign on to babysit a kid who can barely take care of himself, Xander.”
