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After a minute or so, I stand. Vomiting has pretty much pushed sex out of my mind and now, I'm tired. I slip into the bathroom to brush my teeth and then stumble into the bedroom. I frown as I realize I don't have any clothes to wear. Oh well. I strip out of my clothes until I'm down to my panties. I crawl into bed, snuggling underneath the sheets and my comforter. I can't quite get warm enough to fall asleep though, so I steal Emerson's comforter too.
“Who's the cover hog now?”
“I was almost asleep,” I whine, opening my eyes to see him in bed, tugging on his comforter. “I was cold.”
“Why are you co—” He stops as his hands find my body underneath the sheets. “You're naked?”
“I didn't have any clothes to wear,” I reply, not bothering to correct him that I'm not completely naked.
I hear him swallow hard. “Want something of mine to wear?”
“You can keep me warm as long as you promise not to steal my comforter.”
He groans. “How is it that you threw up on me not even an hour ago and somehow, I still want to have sex with you?”
I laugh. “You and your way with words. Are you going to cuddle with me or let me freeze to death and not get any sleep?”
He laughs, sitting up and removing his shirt. “Sit up.” I do and he slips his shirt over me before lying back down. “Okay, come on.”
I stare at him. “There's still the same amount of clothing between us. What was the point?”
“One, so you wouldn't be quite so cold and two, because I don't need to feel your bare skin if you're trying to fall asleep.” It's like a thought hits him and he adds, “Is there a chance you'll get sick again?”
“Don't think so. I don't usually vomit either though.”
He pulls me against him. “Let's hope you're done then.”
“Thanks for tonight, Emerson.”
“You're welcome. And FYI, I want to ban you from alcohol. You two don't seem like a good mix.”
I wonder if he's talking about tonight, my history, or both. “Agreed. Now shut up so I can sleep.”
He chuckles, kisses my temple, and I get closer to falling asleep as I take deep breaths, inhaling his fresh, clean scent. This apartment, this bedroom, this bed, in his arms is my favorite place to be. At first, I thought his place was bare and didn't show much about himself, but I think it really does. He himself is a fairly simple guy, but he's thoughtful and considerate as showcased by the extra comforter and the toothbrush he bought me. He may not have any photos of us hanging up, but my presence is scattered throughout the rooms. He doesn't put away my things when I'm not here. He leaves them out, as if he's keeping pieces of me here when I'm not.
Emerson warms me up as I get drowsier by the moment. I love his apartment. I love being here with him.
“I want to move in,” I absentmindedly breathe the thought in my head, falling asleep as the last word leaves my mouth.
DID I HEAR her correctly? She wants to move in with me? Didn't we talk about this and say not yet? Maybe Drunk Eva wants to move in while Sober Eva doesn't. I mean, Drunk Eva also wanted to have sex in my truck and she's never mentioned doing that before. I wonder if she'll even remember saying it in the morning because she fell asleep so quickly after saying it. It takes me forever to fall asleep as I debate if I need to bring it up in the morning. Either way, it cements what I planned to do this weekend anyway.
When I wake up, Eva's already awake.
“I'm so sorry,” she says. For a moment, I'm disappointed that she's awake. I love being up before her and watching her go from groggy to her normal self.
“Could have been worse.”
“How?” she asks incredulously.
“You could have thrown up in Sweet Irene. I'd rather it be me.” She watches me for a moment and I can tell she doesn't believe me, but I mean it. I rather clean myself up than have to clean that out of my truck. “Anything else you want to discuss from yesterday?”
Her eyes squint for a moment. “No. Wait, should I? Oh God, please tell me I didn't do anything else embarrassing? The only other thing I can think of is saying we should pop Sweet Irene's cherry.” She starts laughing. “That wouldn't have been so bad though.”
Ah, so she doesn't remember. I make the impulsive decision not to bring it up. “That was when I knew I needed to get you home,” I say.
“Good thinking.” She's quiet for a minute before she speaks again. She looks up at me, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Has Kelly called lately?”
“Not since I kind of went off on her.”
