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I may have forgotten that we worked together while I was busy doing the horizontal tango with him for the past twelve hours. Don’t get me wrong, I’m completely okay with having sex with a friend. The problem is somewhere between shots three and four of tequila last night, I lost the piece of information that said I’d be seeing him on his shift rotation for the next five days.
Mental note to call
Cami ASAP and ask her to be a human buffer. Scratch that. I’m acting insane. This is fine. This is Nathan, of all people. He’s the kindest, least judgmental person I’ve ever met. He won’t make things weird between us, especially at work. But is it a little weird that I could describe in detail what he looks like naked, and how good he is at using his tongue…?
“Hey, you okay?”
“Yep! The hangover is hitting me. I need something to eat, and I’ll be good as new.”
Nathan rubs his right ear against his shoulder. “You want to stay for a bite to eat?” His soft voice puts me at ease.
“No, but thank you. I should go. Burrito calls and all that.”
Oh my god, why, Kiersten? I’m as suave as an elephant on stilts. I reach behind me and twist the door handle. It pops open harder than I expect, and I stumble through the doorway. “I’ll see you at work!”
His chuckle chases me out the door, and I skip down the steps. I don’t look back until I reach the sidewalk in front of his house. Nathan leans against the doorjamb in nothing but his underwear, giving a little half wave and sexy half smirk when he catches me watching. Ugh, it’s so not fair.
At least this isn’t a true walk of shame. Besides my blond hair looking like I stuck my finger in an electrical socket, the pair of shorts and tee I wore to the bar last night appear perfectly normal for a Sunday morning stroll. I could’ve been forced to walk down main street in a pair of stilettos and little black dress. Now that’d be a shot to my ego, speaking strictly from experience.
A brisk ten-minute walk later, I reach my red Honda Civic behind the bar. After swinging past the Main Street diner for the loaded breakfast burrito I couldn’t stop thinking about, I find myself back at my empty house. A sigh escapes as I flop onto my brown microfiber couch. Kicking my feet out in front of me, I prop them on my antique coffee table.
After inhaling my burrito, texting Cami and Nathan that I’m home and alive, and taking my pill that I brought out before I sat down, I roll into my soft cushion, drag the throw off the back of the couch, and promptly pass out while thinking of the glamorous life of a single thirty-something.
So. Freaking. Glamorous.
