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"Okay then. Is there anything I should know like..." I peeked under the sheet. "Did we do anything last night or...?"
"No." He shook his head. "Of course not."
"Why am I in your bed, then?"
"Because it was the closest room to carry you to," he said, shrugging. "You want some eggs for breakfast? That will help with your hangover."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," I said quickly. "I can make them."
"It's okay. Lie back. Sip the coffee. I'll make you some scrambled eggs and bacon with some toast?"
"Thanks. That's really thoughtful of you."
"No worries."
He got off the bed and walked toward the door. He looked back at me.
"So you don't remember dancing or anything?"
My face turned bright red as I stared at him.
"No. What do you mean? Like tap dancing?" I squeaked out. "Or ballet or modern jazz or..."
"Yeah, something like that," he said, his eyes crinkling as he gazed at me. "Just relax. I'll be back in a second."
"Okay," I said, smiling bravely at him.
When he walked out of the room, I fell back into the bed and groaned into the pillow.Oh my gosh, Alice, what did you do?I closed my eyes and tried to remember exactly what had happened. Had I kissed him? Had I touched him? Oh dear God. Please tell me I hadn't given him a blow job or anything like that. I still had my panties on, so I was pretty confident we hadn't had sex. Plus, I knew Foster. He was definitely not the sort of guy to have sex with an inebriated woman. He didn't do stuff like that.
Suddenly, I remembered being on his lap, moving back and forth. He'd been hard. My face grew even redder. He'd been really hard. I could almost still feel him between my legs, and he grabbed my hips. No, wait, I told him to hold my hip. In fact, I grabbed his hands and placed them on my waist, and he moved me back and forth slowly. I'd rubbed my breasts against his chest and then moved up slightly so I could bounce my nipples across his mouth. Had he sucked on one of them, or had I been hoping he would?
I wanted to die. I couldn't believe I'd been so brave. I couldn't believe that I tried to make a move, and I'd been so drunk that I had fallen asleep. I looked around the room and jumped out of bed quickly. Opening Foster's closet, I grabbed a T-shirt, pulled it on, and walked out to the kitchen.
"Hey," he said in surprise. "I thought I told you to relax."
"Yeah, I know. Foster," I said.
"Yeah?" he asked me as he cracked some eggs into a bowl.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course. Anything."
"So last night."
"Yeah."
I bit down on my lower lip.
"Did I say anything weird or crazy or..."
"Like what?"
He looked up at me, an alert expression on his face.
"I don't know. Just anything."
"No. You didn't say much. You were singing a bunch of different pop songs that I didn't really know, but you didn't say anything untoward or personal or anything."
