Chapter Twenty
Jo
I ’ve never been desperate for water like I am as soon as my eyes split apart and I stare directly into the stream of sunlight coming through the window.
Why didn’t I close the curtain?
Wait.
The morning sun doesn’t come in my window…
I shoot up, gasping as my brain pounds against my skull, and realize way too slowly that I’m in Lochlan’s living room.
On his couch.
A chill skates over my skin, and I glance down at my naked breasts, fully exposed.
“Oh my God!” I gasp, covering myself with the blanket.
My dress from last night is folded neatly on the coffee table, beside it is a black T-shirt with the SCS logo on it.
I’m in Lochlan’s house, but a part of me hoped he didn’t know I was here.
Beside the T-shirt is a bottle of water and a pink sticky note.
Drink the whole bottle.
You’ll need it.
I have made a mockery of myself more in the past twelve hours than I have in the past twenty-four years of my life .
Drunk on my boss’s couch after sitting on his lap in a public setting.
And, admitting to him that I’ve never been with a man.
Ughhh.
Maybe I only dreamed it.
I hope I don’t have to face him today.
I can’t handle it.
I sling the T-shirt over my head, thankful that it drapes to my mid-thigh, and I snag my dress and the water bottle.
I have no clue where my shoes went, but it’s only a few steps to the guesthouse.
I’ve done it barefoot many times already.
Lochlan is probably hours into his day, but I tiptoe to the front door anyway, nervous to be caught.
I just want to sneak home and ignore him the rest of the weekend.
The door creaks as it opens, and I watch the stairs expectantly, like he might come down them at any moment, holding my breath until my feet are on the porch and I can pull the door shut.
I exhale roughly as I spin around, and gasp from deep within.
All of them.
They’re all standing twenty feet away, having some sort of pow wow, staring at me in nothing but my boss’s T-shirt.
My back slams against the door as Lochlan’s gaze catches mine and doesn’t let go.
My hand struggles frantically for the door knob, twisting at the same time my body shoves the door back open so I can flee to safety inside.
Fuck my life.
He comes in a moment later while I’m sitting on the stairs with my head in my hands.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble.
“For what?”
“For being a disaster. ”
“You’re not a disaster. You’re hungover, it happens.”
“I look like a train wreck who just had a one-night stand,” I speak directly into my hands, muffling my voice.
“Jo, look at me.”
“No.”
“You’re too concerned by what people think. They didn’t say a word about you coming outside in my T-shirt because they know better. Now, I can let them think you were wearing my clothes because you chose to spend the night here or I can tell them you got shit faced drunk and unzipped your dress before I could stop you, and snuggled onto my couch like a little cat.”
“Are those my only two options?”
“I told them you weren’t feeling good last night and fell asleep on my couch. No one in their right mind would assume you stayed here on purpose. Don’t worry.” He turns to leave.
“I’m worried about making you look bad.”
His body goes stiff.
“Why would you make me look bad?”
“It’s unprofessional of me to be standing on your porch half-naked in front of all the guys. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”
“If you think for one second that I’m worried about that, then you haven’t been paying attention.”
“What do you mean?”
“A gorgeous woman walks out of my house looking like that… Embarrassed is not what I’m feeling. Trust me.” He walks out of the house, letting the door slam behind him, leaving me slack-jawed.
Gorgeous?
* * *
I spent all of yesterday hibernating in my bed, too nauseous to eat and too dizzy to do anything but doze in and out of sleep.
Today hasn’t been much better, but I’ve managed to move to my little table to study.
Lochlan: How are you feeling?
Jo: Great
Lochlan: I don’t believe you
Jo: Like hot garbage
Lochlan: Get some fresh air
Jo: No
Lochlan: Open your door.
Jo: No
Lochlan: Yes
I shove away from my laptop and answer the door, reluctantly.
“What?”
“Do you have plans tonight?”
I glance back at my sad pile of textbooks, and he follows my gaze.
“No, I don’t.”
“I want to show you something,” he motions for me to follow him.
I shuffle after him in my oversized hoodie and pajama shorts, completely disregarding my physical appearance.
I haven’t put anything on my face but lotion since removing my crusty makeup yesterday morning, and my hair hasn’t been washed.
The messy bun on top of my head is authentic, not curated.
“Sit,” he instructs as soon as we walk through his front door .
My body moves just enough to get me to the couch, and I plop down, leaning heavily against the back of it.
I’m staring into the abyss of a black screen before I process what I’m looking at.
A brAND NEW TV.
“Did you? When did you? Why?” I stutter as he comes back into the room.
“Oh my. This is so exciting!” I clap my hands together before he can say anything, grabbing for the remote.
Then pause.
“I’m sorry, did you want to watch something in particular?”
He huffs a short laugh.
“I got it for you. I wouldn’t even know what to watch.”
“For me?”
“Whenever you want, come over and watch your movies.” He hits a button on the side of the TV, and a DVD player pops out.
“No more depression cave.”
“Lochlan,” I utter happily before launching up and giving him the biggest bear hug around the neck.
I’m too happy to care that I’ve never actually hugged him before or that he might not have wanted me to.
I’m too happy to care that I’m hugging a man who made me feel a lot of warm, tingly things two days ago.
I needed a hug.
“Thank you,” I whisper genuinely.
“This is the best gift ever.”
“Go get a movie, Jo. I’ll get your ice cream.” His hands caress my back as he steps away, avoiding eye contact…
Bashfully?
“I’m going to cry!” I take off with more energy than I’ve had in months, sprinting to the guesthouse to get one of my favorite movies .
I get it set up, and when he hands me a bowl of ice cream, I stare at it for a full minute.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.
The smile stretches across my face as I look over at him sitting in the seat on the opposite side of the couch, then it morphs to confusion.
“Are you eating cereal?”
“I don’t like ice cream.” He shrugs.
“I knew there was something wrong with you.”
He rolls his eyes.
“What are we watching?”
“This, Lochlan Dane, is Pride & Prejudice.”