Chapter Fourteen #2
I grunt a response as I readjust some pillows, elevating myself enough to hold the food.
“Hanging out with friends?” She lifts one brow. “Hot date?”
“Teacher thing.” I take an enormous bite packed with egg, sausage, and hash browns, shoveling it into my mouth with a groan. “That’s—” I inhale my next forkful exactly half a second after swallowing the first. “Ohmygod, that’s so good.”
I release another food-induced moan, not caring that it sounds like breakfast is taking me to third base. Daisy’s focus skates up and down my body, and color rises to her cheeks.
I continue to eat in a fugue state until I clean my plate. It’s so Daisy to do this—to have a feast prepared for me and to take care of me when I need it.
“Wanna talk about it?” she asks. “You don’t have to, but—”
“They kicked me out.” I lay back on the couch, like a lion after a meal.
“What?”
“To be fair, I got their car towed.”
I had hoped the Jeep would be secure there overnight, but the bar owner didn’t recognize the car as any of the regulars’, so they called to have it hauled away.
Frank delivered me home safe, but I’ve paid for my responsible decision with parents who think I’m trying to turn their place into a party house.
No more car, no more roof over my head. I see their actions for what they’re worth—they want to say told you so.
But even if I changed my mind today and enrolled in law school, I’d never satisfy them.
“They’re your parents.” Daisy sets her plate down with a clang. “Who cares about a tow?”
“I was suffocating over there, so I’m glad they told me to leave,” I say, stabbing a yolk. I’m glad, too, to have a place like Daisy’s where I can breathe again.
“I’m sorry, Max. They’re so hard on you. I don’t get it.”
“They live in milestones.” I shrug, my eyes catching on the jolt of blue from her bra strap. “Married by twenty-five. Partners at their respective law firms by thirty. Two kids, nice house. To them, I’m too old to be where I am in life right now.”
“Where’re you gonna go?”
I blow air out of my pursed lips. “I’ll check Craigslist. Ask around. I’ll find something.”
“Stay here.”
“I couldn’t.” While I appreciate the offer, I can’t take up one of The Mirage’s accommodations. “You need every room you’ve got for guests.”
“I don’t mean the hotel. I mean here.” She points to the hall. “My old bedroom. No holes in that mattress.”
The suggestion makes me hesitate. Daisy’s always looked out for me, and the proximity to the work for the museum would make my life easier. I’d be around Daisy more, too—late nights and early mornings, and she’d be sleeping one room over. That’s not necessarily a good thing.
Daisy wriggles around, reaching into her pocket and removing a key from her key ring.
“No.”
“It’s the hotel owner in me. I would have offered sooner, but I didn’t realize how bad things were. The thought of someone I care about getting a terrible night’s sleep pulls at my heartstrings.”
“I…” She cares about me. I lean to one side so I’m facing her, propped up on my elbow while an alcohol-induced headache claws deeper into me. That spare room would be practical.
“You don’t need to do this,” I go on.
“I know.”
I lock eyes with her, the rich brown of her irises like an antidote to my headache and nausea. “Can I—last night, I had sort of a come-to-Jesus moment.”
“Six tiki drinks’ll do that to a man.”
“I really care about this project. You’ve got a lot riding on it—we both do—and I want to make it something incredible.” I scratch the back of my neck. “I never meant for you to think that I’m looking down on you, though.”
“Oh.” Daisy rolls her lower lip between her teeth. “Well, if we’re swapping confessions, I know I’ve been a pain in the ass about renovations.”
“You’re being smart. We’re just learning how to work together. Be a team.”
She nods. “A team.” Her eyes linger on me for a couple of seconds, and I get the tingling urge to reach out and tuck some stray strands of hair behind her ears. She holds up the keys again before I do something stupid. “So does that mean you’ll take me up on my offer?”
I smile. “I can look for something else.”
“Why do you want to play life on hard mode right now? Take the damn keys.”
She’s not doing anything other than giving me a safe, comfortable place to sleep—but I can’t pretend the last time we were together didn’t happen.
“Will it be weird for you having me here?”
“Why would it be?”
“Because.” I lift an eyebrow at her. She’s going to force me to say it. “Because we made out. Because I told you about my crush in high school.”
“I don’t think so.” A hint of a blush creeps up her cheekbones, like pigment added to water. “Do you?”
“Nope.” I shrug. “People make out all the time.”
“Mhmm.”
“It could be weird if it was bad, you know. The kiss.” I lean back, creating a pillow with my hands behind my head, and I try not to replay the other day. Her arms wrapped around my neck. Her mouth on mine. Her hips rolling against my cock. “I don’t think it was, though.”
“Same. Just unexpected.” Another pause, and she swallows. “Well, good. You’re right. Friends kiss sometimes. It’s unbelievable we made it through high school without letting any horny teenage urges get the best of us.”
We almost did, I want to say. But the hangover and food coma combined with Daisy saying the word horny all make me think I need some rest.
“And crushes are…they’re no big deal,” she goes on. “What matters is that we’re friends.”
“Friends,” I say, doing my best not to wince.
She stands, taking both of our empty plates into the kitchen. We’ve put it all out in the open, and things don’t have to be weird between us. We could even joke about it. Remember the time we dry-humped on a dying air mattress? Good times.
Ignoring the growing erection in my pants, I readjust and sink into the couch. “Hey, can we do a rain check for our meeting?” I ask with heavy eyelids. “I’m spent.”
“Sure. There’s a pull-out sofa in your room.”
“Okay. I’ll stay.”
She slips the key into my hand, patting it before heading to the lobby for work.
Everything will be fine.