Chapter 31
EILEEN
I wake up at the crack of dawn to the sound of a television playing. It’s that time of spring when the sun’s already out, despite it being too early for decent human beings to be awake. The light is like a pick-ax against my brain.
I guess we went hard. It takes me a minute to sober up enough to get my bearings. I’m in a bedroom that isn’t mine. The other side of the bed is empty, but still warm. Shit, what did I do last night?
I vaguely remember doing karaoke with Jason. We were arguing about... disco? There was more arguing, and I said too much about how great he is—
“Fuck,” I say under my breath.
We kissed. We made out at Finley’s of all places. If this gets back to Dad, my parents will kill me.
“Shit, okay,” I tell myself. “It’s fine.”
Just have to deny, deny, and deny. Maybe I can get Jason to go along with that. It’s not like he actually wanted to have sex with me. We were drunk, caught up in the heat of the moment.
Not that drunk, you knew what you were doing. I remind myself.
That’s not the point. Let’s put the dots on the i’s and cross on the t’s.
He wouldn’t want me for more than a one-night stand. He’s a playboy. Even if he wanted to change who he is, he is way too sophisticated and charming to want to settle for me.
I take a few deep breaths. There’s an aspirin and water on the bedside table, thank fuck. I’m naked save for this old Rocky Horror Picture Show t-shirt that’s draped over my body like a dress.
Definitely went home with Jason.
Following the sound of the television, I find him sitting on the couch watching the news.
“Any high speed chases?” I say as I approach the couch.
He chuckles. “No, just reviewing some hearing the senate committee on health, education, labor, and pensions had yesterday.”
“Oh,” I say as I settle down next to him.
Without looking away from the screen, he hands me his coffee mug. I take a sip.
“This blend is so good. Where did you get it?” I mumble.
“Specially delivered from Seattle,” he informs me.
“That’s so wasteful,” I say.
“And yet, so delicious,” he adds.
I groan into the cup. “I would sell my soul for another cup of this.”
“Well, hang on,” Jason says as he gets up. “No need to sell your soul. I’ll make another cup. You can finish that one.”
I watch him as he goes to the kitchen—shirtless with disheveled hair and flannel pajama pants. Even his back muscles are corded. The need and craving stir inside my gut and my legs clench as the ache between them pulses.
Maybe he’d be up for another round if I beg?
Fuck, I would give anything for one more round with him. But it can’t happen. My parents would disown me. Charlie would have a conniption about how I’m “upstaging her wedding.”
Jason gives me a soft, familiar smile as he approaches the couch.
He’s also the first friend I’ve had in a long time who really gets me. Camilla loves me, but she indulges most of my hobbies. Jason gets me and appreciates what I’m into and who I am.
I don’t think I could handle losing that, or him.
Sipping the coffee he gave me, I take a shuddering breath. I could just ask.
Yeah, what a great idea, I think sarcastically.
How shall I start?
“Hey Jason, I know you’re completely out of my league, but what if we ran away together and never saw my family again?”
No, I can up that with a better line. “What if we moved to some tiny corner of New York, set up shop, and built a life together?”
He’d never go for something as crazy as that. Why would I even go out of state when I love this place so much? Because if I go there, no one would shatter my happiness. Not that he is it.
Still, I have to say something though. Friends don’t just wake up in each other’s beds wearing each other’s sleep clothing casually.
Jason, mercifully, starts talking about the committee hearing on TV. I throw some of my opinions at him, which isn’t hard. The hearing directly concerned resources for neurodivergent kids. That’s a topic I have a personal stake as well as professional credentials to talk about it.
He has some aspirational ideals about the whole thing, but I appreciate his enthusiasm and energy. I didn’t realize how jaded and cynical I’ve grown with this industry that I used to care so much about.
I really needed that vacation and definitely a pay raise.
“So…” I say eventually, finally biting the bullet. “About last night—”
“Yeah. It was crazy, right?”
“A little,” I agree. “But I was wondering if you had any thoughts or opinions?”
“I don’t know. I think you had some points about the Second British Invasion,” he points out. “But I don’t know if I can agree with your opinions on disco.”
Normally I’d pick an argument about this discussion he’s waving in my face. But this is something we should talk about.
“No, I mean—how much do you remember about last night?”
“Uh, gotta be honest, not much,” he says, grimacing as he scratches the back of his neck.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Arguing about music,” he says. “I vaguely remember karaoke, but not enough to tell you what we sang or what we did afterward.”
He doesn’t remember us sleeping together.
“Why?” Jason asks. “Do you remember something I don’t.”
This is my get out of jail free card. I’d be an idiot not to side step confronting us sleeping together.
I shrug, staring at my mug as I take another sip. “Nope, I was hoping you could fill in the blanks for me. I blacked out after the Irish car bombs.”
He snorts. “Sorry, dude. I know about as much as you do.”
We laugh together, like we always do. This time it doesn’t feel comforting.
It’s hollow and stiff. He’s lying, and I’m following right behind. The back of my eyes fill with moisture. Because fuck, I’m just one more woman who slept in Jason’s bed and gets to walk out without a thank you note.
That’s good, isn’t it. Hakuna Matata and all that shit. And we go back to watching the news, mumbling opinions on occasion.
This is a blessing I keep reminding myself. I wanted to deny everything, and now I can. I don’t even have to take Jason’s rejection. This is everything I wanted when I woke up this morning.
So why do I feel so shitty?