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“I didn’t rescue you. I just helped a bit. Come on, don’t cry. It’s going to be okay. We’ll sort it out.” I grab a tissue from the box on my side of the bed and hand it to her.
She blows her nose, then looks up at me. Her eye makeup is smudged and her eyes are red, but she’s still beautiful.
“Will you kiss me?” she whispers.
“Not while you’re drunk.”
She leans her temple on my shoulder, still looking up at me. “I love you.”
I chuckle and kiss her nose. “I love you, too.”
She closes her eyes.
In less than a minute, she’s asleep.
I slide down the pillows a bit, turning to face her, and she snuggles right up to me.
We stay like that for the rest of the night.
*
Belle
When I next open my eyes, the sun is streaming through the open curtains, buttercup yellow.
I’m lying on my side, facing Damon. Even though I’m underneath the duvet and he’s on top, we’re entangled, my top knee between his, and our arms wrapped around each other. My nose is buried in his neck. He’s wearing a tee, and smells of freshly washed cotton, along with the subtle scent of his cologne, all mixed in with warm male. Ohhh… if someone could bottle that smell, they’d make a fortune.
For a moment, I don’t move, enjoying being so close to him. He’s asleep, I think—his breathing is slow and even, his breath feathering across my forehead.
He was so sweet last night. I vaguely remember him coming into the bar and talking to the bartender. I seem to recall him picking me up at one point and carrying me in. I’m wearing a T-shirt, so I must have changed out of my dress—I don’t remember doing that. I think I was sick, though. I have a recollection of him holding my hair back. Jeez.
He obviously refused to get into bed with me, but cuddled up just the same. Oh God, did I tell him I love him? I’m sure I remember him laughing and saying he loved me too. That’s embarrassing.
His lips touch my forehead, light as a butterfly.
I move back and look up into his brown eyes. “Oh, good morning.”
“Morning,” he says, and smiles. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay. I think.”
“You slept well.”
“Better than I thought I would.” Wow, he looks amazing. Better than I do, I’m sure. His hair is all ruffled. His jaw bears a light stubble. His eyes survey me sleepily. Mmm, imagine waking up like this after a night of lovemaking. Imagine knowing that he was yours.
I swallow and sit up. My makeup will be all smudged, and I have badger’s breath. I can’t imagine I’ve ever looked less attractive.
Leaning over to the bedside table, I retrieve my clutch—he must have left it there—and take out my phone. “It’s seven thirty,” I say with some surprise.
“Late for me,” he says. “I’m normally up at six.”
I have a few messages. Several are from Gaby, asking if I’m okay—one from last night, two from this morning.
“Gaby’s wondering where I am,” I tell him.
“Of course. Today’s the big day.”
I text her that I stayed at the hotel, and that I’ll be home in a while. Damon watches me, head propped on a hand.
