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Her eyes roll at my playful pun. “Thanks for getting me wasted.”
“Not sure that’s something you should be thankful for.”
“I asked for it.”
“Doesn’t make it right.”
“Well, if nothing else, thanks for proving that nice guys still exist.” She pats my chest as I tug the blankets over her.
“You give me too much credit.”
“And you don’t give yourself enough,” she mumbles.
Warmth spreads through my chest while I watch her burrow deeper under the covers. “I’m gonna get you some water. Be right back.”
She mutters something incoherent as I leave the room. I take my time in the kitchen. There’s no rush. Personal experience has me snagging a few ibuprofen for her as well. As predicted, Grace is snoring softly when I return.
I set the items on the nightstand for her to find whenever. Then I surrender to impulse and kiss her forehead. “Sweet dreams, soulmate.”
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”
That gravel voice and the decadent scent of caffeine rouses me from a dreamless sleep. Insistent throbbing against my temples suggests I resist the lure. I crack an eyelid open to see Garrett perched on the edge of the bed, wafting coffee fumes at me from a steaming mug. He sets the freshly brewed temptation on the nightstand and waits for me to formally acknowledge his presence.
“Morning,” I croak. That’s about all I dare to say. My mouth tastes like a full dumpster of poopy diapers after baking under the sun for hours.
“Almost afternoon,” he returns with a chuckle.
“My head is pounding. Need. More. Sleep,” I groan.
Garrett’s lips curve into a devilish smirk made for sin. “Regrets?”
“Heck no.” I prop myself up on a wobbly elbow. Even the slight motion drives a spike through my skull. “How else would I gain your undivided attention for an entire evening?”
His eyes become a blue inferno set on incinerating the differences in our dating expectations. “I could think of several ideas.”
The sheet drifts along my bare skin, which alerts me to my state of undress. I grapple for the covers before I provide him with a peepshow. That sets off another internal alarm. My mind is a mushy abyss as I scramble to find missing pieces. Only blurry snippets appear through the fog. And now I’m sweating.
Garrett grunts at my continued fumbling. “Nothing I didn’t see while tucking you in.”
As if that’s reassuring. I fling an arm over my face and gnaw on a foul curse. “Crappity crud buckets. Ohhhhh, shoot. Please tell me we didn’t—”
He holds up a palm, effectively cutting off what might’ve bloomed into hysterics. “Nope, don’t fret. I was a perfect gentleman. Mostly. Even when you tried to seduce me with promises of anal.”
My breath whooshes from me. “I would never.”
“Okay, fine. You didn’t offer to let me in the back door. But you did beg me to take the edge off for you. Several times.” His wink is too flirty for this conversation.
“Whatever. There’s no way that’s accurate,” I mutter.
Although, my memory remains splintered. There’s a solid chance he’s right.
His broad grin says he damn well knows it. “You most certainly did, but I’ll let you pretend you didn’t.”
My denial comes to an abrupt halt. Clips of my desperate advances from last night replay in a blooper reel, and I hang my head in my hands. “Aw, shit.”
His laughter is a smug tune fit as confirmation to his claim. “Yep, totally happened. You were like a boa constrictor trying to devour me.”
I whack him with a pillow. “It wasn’t that bad.”
