Jules
They say you should hold on to those who are good to you and forget those who aren’t.
I’d tried to do that, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t forget James or my father.
All the awful things they’d said and done still haunted me, and it made it hard to believe that I wasn’t the piece of crap they told me I was.
It also made it hard to trust men—all men, so I’d spent the last couple of years avoiding them at all costs.
And then, Q came along.
I’d planned to keep him at arm’s length, but after a night of pool, shots, and a decent amount of flirting, I let him take me home—or so I thought.
Before I realized what was happening, I was in his bathroom, hugging his commode.
Needless to say, I was in bad shape. My head was pounding, my stomach was queasy, and I just wanted it to stop.
I was on my way back to the living room sofa when I spotted Q’s king-sized bed.
It looked so inviting with its thick comforter and oversized pillows.
I ran my hand across the soft fabric, and it just seemed to call out to me. Thinking that I would be okay if I could just lay down for a minute, I pulled off my boots and crawled into his bed. I rested my head on his soft pillowcase, smelling a hint of his cologne, and that’s all it took.
I was out.
I woke up hours later, alone and unsettled, and before I realized what I was doing, I’d called out to Q.
We spent the next hour talking, and I couldn’t remember enjoying someone’s company more.
I felt like it was a dream. The next morning, I expected to be thrown back into reality, but the dream continued...
“Good morning, sleepy head.” I turned to face the door and found Q standing there with a warm smile on his face. He was already dressed in his jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt, and unlike me, he was clearly ready to start the day. “You hungry?”
“Umm, yeah. I guess.”
“Great.” He motioned his hand to the end of the bed. “I left you a pair of sweats if you wanna take a shower.”
I sat up and looked down at my feet, and just as I feared, there was a man’s hoodie and pair of sweats lying there.
Dread washed over me when I thought about the last time I’d tried to wear one of James’s sweatshirts.
It looked plenty big, and I thought for sure that it would fit, but I could barely pull it over my head.
And even when I did manage to get it on, it hugged every undesirable curve and indentation, making me look even bigger than I was.
I hated the idea of looking that way in front of Q, so I told him, “That’s okay. I’ll just put mine back on.”
“That’s probably not a good idea.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“They’re soaked in vomit. Besides, it’s chilly out there this morning. You’ll be warmer in those.” Without giving me a chance to argue further, he turned and walked out of the room. “Be ready to chow down in twenty.”
With great apprehension, I tossed the covers back and forced myself out of Q’s bed.
I grabbed the clothes he’d left me, then headed to the bathroom.
I turned on the water, and as I started to remove my clothes, memories of the night before started fluttering through my mind.
I’d already remembered getting sick in the bathroom and crawling into Q’s bed, but things that transpired at the bar were still a little foggy.
I pulled off Q’s t-shirt and cringed at the thought of him seeing me in only my bra.
And even worse, seeing me with my head buried in a toilet for hours on end.
I had no doubt it was quite a sight. Overcome with regret and embarrassment, I got in the shower and let the warm water flow down my shoulders.
Just when I was starting to feel a little better, I remembered playing pool and my pitiful attempt at flirting. I said the craziest, off-the-wall things, and instead of laughing at me or simply ignoring me, Q played along. He made me feel alive in a way I’d never felt before.
And that thought led me to another mortifying memory—the kiss.
If I’d had just one more drink, then maybe I would’ve been lucky enough to forget how I’d basically thrown myself at the guy. Sadly, I didn’t, and I remembered everything—the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body, and most of all, the incredible feeling of his lips against mine.
Damn.
I was in trouble.
As soon as I’d finished with my shower, I got out and dried off.
I was worried that Q’s sweats wouldn’t fit, but to my pleasant surprise, they were pretty loose and rested low on my annoyingly wide hips.
I put back on my bra, then tried on Q’s hoodie.
Like the sweats, it fit with plenty of room—vastly different from the way James’s used to fit, and I liked it.
I felt really good in it.
I towel-dried my hair, then brushed and braided it.
Once I made myself look presentable, I cleaned up my mess and went to the kitchen to find Q. When I walked in, the entire counter was littered with pots and pans, and Q was standing in front of the stove.
I had no idea what he was cooking, but it smelled incredible. I tiptoed over to him and peeked over his shoulder as I asked, “What are you making over here?”
“A mix of things.” He turned, and a strange look crossed his face when he saw me. He stared at me for a moment, then pressed his lips together before saying, “Damn.”
“What?” Worried, I looked down at his hoodie and asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong.” A sexy smile crossed his face as he added, “In fact, I think everything’s just right.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d say the man liked having me in his clothes, which left me feeling a little off-center.
The truth was I liked Q. I liked him a lot more than I cared to admit, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t still terrified.
I was, but I didn’t want my fear to ruin this moment with him. “So, what’s for breakfast?”
“Well...” He took a step back and motioned his hand over to all the food he’d made. “We have both pancakes and waffles, sausage links and patties, and eggs, scrambled and over easy.”
“Are you expecting company or something?”
“Nope. I just wanted to give you a chance to figure out which one you liked best.”
“All of this is for me?”
“It is.” He motioned me over to the table as he said, “Now, let’s eat while it’s still warm.”
I nodded, then went over and sat down. I was reeling with emotion as I watched this sweet, thoughtful man bring over one plate of food after the next until there wasn’t any room left on the table. Once he was seated, he smiled and said, “Dig in.”
“You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I wanted to.”
“Well, it’s very sweet of you.”
“Wasn’t trying to be sweet, babe.” He cocked his brow as he informed me, “I was trying to make a point.”
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“You’ll see.” He took a bite of his waffles as he said, “Go on. See what you think.”
“Okay.”
I’d had pancakes and waffles before, but never at the same time. It was a little strange, but I went with it. I took a bite of pancakes, and then I tried a bite of the waffle. I’d barely swallowed when Q asked, “Well?”
“They’re both really good.”
“Yeah, but which one is better?”
“I don’t know.” I took another bite of each, savoring each mouthful as I tried to choose between the two, and after careful consideration, I replied, “I think I like the waffles better.”
“You think?”
“I like the waffles.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. Now, what about the eggs?”
“I’m pretty sure I like scrambled best.” I took a bite of the cheesy, scrambled eggs, and then I tried a bite of the over-easy eggs. “Yeah, definitely the scrambled.”
Without being prompted, I sampled the different kinds of sausage, then smiled as I announced, “The links for sure.”
“Well, that was easy.”
“Thanks to you.” I took another bite of waffle, then said, “I still can’t believe you did all this.”
“It had to be done. There were questions that had to be answered.”
Q reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small notebook and pen. When he started jotting something down, I leaned over to take a look. “What’s that?”
“You’ll see.” He shoved it back in his pocket, then continued eating. “Eat up. We’ve got a busy day ahead.”
“A busy day? What do you mean?”
“We’ve got things to do.”
“But...”
“Gonna have to trust me on this one, babe.”
I don’t know if it was his sexy, little smile or the way he called me babe, but I couldn’t find it in me to argue with him. I was also extremely curious to see exactly what he had planned for our day, so I simply nodded and turned my attention back to my waffles.
As soon as we’d finished eating, I helped Q clean the kitchen and put the dishes away. Once we had everything put away, he asked, “You ready to go?”
“Not exactly.” I pulled at the strings on his hoodie. “I’m still wearing your sweats.”
“Not seeing how that’s a problem.”
“All I have are my boots.” I motioned my hand down to my bare feet. “And I don’t know about you, but I don’t think they really go with the outfit.”
“Oh, yeah. I hadn’t thought about that.” He studied me for a moment then reached over and grabbed the keys from the counter. “It’s all good. We can just run over to your place and grab you a change of clothes.”
“Yeah, that’ll work.”
“Great. Let’s roll.”
“Give me a minute.” I rushed to the bedroom to grab my things, but all I could find were my boots. “Where are my clothes?”
“I put them in the wash. You can grab them when we get back.”
“Okay.”
Without any further delay, I grabbed my purse and boots, then followed Q out to my car. We were about to get in when he asked, “Mind if I drive?”
“By all means.”
He smiled as he got in and started the car. Even though my mind was riddled with questions, I remained silent as he drove me over to my apartment. When he pulled up to the front entrance, I reached for the door handle and said, “I’ll be right back.”
“You might wanna grab a coat while you’re up there.”
“Okay. No problem.”