CHAPTER TWELVE Ginger
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ginger
P ain.
The kind of pain that you’re subconsciously aware of before you even open your eyes. It’s everywhere. My feet, my head, my thighs, my … pussy?
My actions from last night snap into place in my groggy mind.
The smell of commercial detergent and last night’s perfume fills my senses. I crack one eye. Afternoon sunlight blinds me. Nope. Not a chance in hell that is happening.
I groan. I’m sure I must be dying.
The clearing of a man’s throat causes me to shoot up in bed immediately. I grasp for the sheets to cover myself, realizing right away that Cole is perched at the end of it.
Oh shit, I’m still naked?
I cover my bare breasts and bravely open both eyes. Bad idea. My head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.
Cole sits across from me, dressed in his gray sweats and a white t-shirt. His chiseled arms are on full display as he flexes then releases his large, folded-together hands. His hair is mussed and morning-perfect. Something stirs deep inside of me and my pussy aches at the sight.
More details come flooding back to me. Us. I definitely was drunk, but not any more than he was. Pictures pass through my mind in flashes: his hands on my face, the look in his eyes. His words. Oh God. I blink to bring me back to the present. Even that hurts.
His elbows are propped on either knee and the look he’s wearing as he stares out the window is somewhere between anger and confusion. I briefly realize I’m not in my room, I’m in his. I glance at the clock. One p.m.
Cole leans back in the chair, relaxing his legs and scrubbing his face with his hand as I panic. This is it. Too much alcohol and we let it happen. The one thing I always said I wouldn’t. The worst thing we could do. The thing I knew would ruin our friendship. There’s no going back now, we’ve gone and done it—
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Ashby.” Cole’s eyes lock onto mine and hold them. “In case you don’t remember, we have a big fucking problem.”