Chapter Six #2
For the second morning in a row I woke up to a jackhammer beating a chaotic rhythm inside my skull.
But this morning I had someone else lying with me.
My head was spinning. Cripes, how much did I friggin’ drink?
I tugged a leg from under my blanket. My foot thumped on the littered floor for “grounding” while I blinked open my eyes to stare at the ceiling that rippled like an ocean. Wonderful.
The smell of torture – food - was heavy in the air and I swallowed hard.
I didn’t think puking was going to make my head feel any better.
So, I manned up and kept it down the best I could.
I was fairly sure I would be seeing last night’s elixir again within the next hour, though.
There was only so much I could do, after all.
The tinkling of silverware on a plate, a tap-tap-tap of unknown origins, a click-chunk-click of who-knows-what, and soft feminine humming with interrupting solid thunks were my alarm clock.
I preferred music. Maybe I should tell that to whoever was making all that darn racket. Didn’t anyone sleep in New York?
I carefully turned my head to the side.
Blinked.
And shut my eyes again, groaning.
My vision was rotating, but I had seen enough. Enough to warrant another groan. So I did. Friggin’ great.
I lifted my head to see who was snoring on me, my eyes fluttered hard to focus on the face so darn close to mine.
Messy blond curls obstructed half the man’s face, but I knew who it was.
Brent. And as I peeked under the blanket, I found out it was a very naked Brent.
To go right along with a very naked me. I groaned again, letting my head fall back on the cushion.
I waited. The memories would come. Then I would realize how I ended up butt naked with Brent on a couch with company in the room.
Zane was cleaning his gun at a table. Stash was chowing down on a plate full of torture, sprawling all over a couch.
Ally held a trash bag, bending over to pick up pieces of broken furniture.
And Cole was typing on a laptop in a recliner.
It would come. Then I could be properly embarrassed.
I swallowed hard and stared at the ceiling. Waiting.
Didn’t take long.
The memories hit with brutal clarity and I blushed bright, neon red. “Cripes.”
“Yep.” Ally agreed. “Or you could say, ‘Holy shit! I’ve gotten more ass in one day than Ally has in a month’.”
Stash choked on his food and Zane’s shoulders shook, but he didn’t glance away from his work. Cole kept typing, somehow not reacting. His face was cold and remote. And, Brent? Well, he kept on snoring.
Moments ticked by, my dignity flying away with them.
“I told you water would have been a brilliant substitute for the whole bottle of tequila you drained,” Cole deigned to speak, but didn’t bother looking up. Tap-tap-Pound! There was anger in them there fingers.
“She’s not a lush, Casanova. She just had a rough couple of days,” Ally sighed, throwing something that looked like half a plaque in the trash bag. Thunk.
Cole grunted. “I’ve been upgraded from Yankee to Casanova. How flattering.” Tap-Pound-Pound! “Although, I believe that honor should go to our friend Brent. I would be surprised if the whole building wasn’t wakened last night from the noise level that occurred in this room.” Pound-Pound-Pound!
My blush began to travel down my throat to my chest. Oh, this was mortifying.
Thank goodness Zane decided to say something then or I would have started babbling nonsense in my flustered state. “Ember, you need to wake Brent up. It’s 9:00 and we have a noon departure time. You two need to get dressed so we can make our flight.”
Right. I had forgotten about that. I glanced at Ally and raised my eyebrows. Why was she here, really? Wouldn’t Sam be upset?
She waved a negligent hand, understanding my unasked question.
“I’ve got a month’s worth of vacation time available, so I’m coming with you.
Sam’s going to fly down in a few weeks to join us.
” She stopped and stared hard. “Besides, we need to have a conversation that you’re avoiding.
I’m not leaving until we’ve had it. And since we’re both too damn stubborn to give in easily, I figured it might take a while. ”
She stood there watching as my blush disappeared, giving me what I guessed was a nice pasty appearance.
In fact the whole room was divinely silent.
I glanced around. They were all scrutinizing me now.
I turned my head from them, to Brent, and concentrated on how best to wake him.
I sure wasn’t going to talk about what she wanted to know and Brent was a heavy sleeper. It should be interesting.
“Stubborn mule,” Ally muttered behind me.
“Friggin’ nag,” I replied in kind.
They left me alone after that while I poked and jiggled Brent. He snorted a few times, but other than that he kept on snoozing. “For the love of all that’s holy, man, wake up!” I slapped his shoulder.
Nothing.
Ally walked over to help, but coughed, waving her hand in front of her face. “Jesus, you two smell like a fucking distillery.” She gave a delicate shudder before sauntering away – without helping.
“Thank you ever so much. I don’t know how I would have managed my day without hearing that,” I spewed, my head pounding.
“No problem,” she answered cheerfully as she hurtled pieces of trash into the bag extra hard so they would crash even louder. THUNK!
“I’m so getting you back for that, dear.” I glared.
She just smiled sweetly, raising her eyebrows. Oh. No. Direct challenge provoked. I grinned, and her smile faltered. I grinned wider, content with her worry, and then turned back to Brent.
Hmm.
A thought.
I almost laughed out loud, wondering if it would work.
I felt around for my shirt and found it hanging over the arm of the couch. Somehow I managed to get it on without flashing anyone. Getting up was the real issue. I pulled out from under Brent…and tumbled from the couch onto the debris surrounding it. Ouch!
How he got there so fast, I hadn’t a clue, but Cole was somehow helping me up from the ground and shielding me as I made sure my shirt covered all of my private bits. I tugged on my hair and blushed, mumbling, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said quietly, bringing my boots over without having to ask.
He was bent down, putting them on me when I noticed the room had gone quiet.
Again. With one foot in the air and a hand on Cole’s back for balance, I peeked through my bangs.
Zane had turned around in his chair, gun and clothe in hand where they lay on his thighs while he stared with what I could only call a thoughtful expression lurking in his dark eyes.
Stash had a fork halfway to his mouth – yes, mouth open for the bite, but he looked like someone had pressed the “Pause” button on him.
Caught in mid-motion, he watched Cole tie my boot.
Ally’s lips were twitching as she glanced from Cole to me. She bit her lip.
“I got it,” I offered Cole, reaching down, but his frosty gaze met mine. I kept quiet after that. He was angry. It was hidden well. But, it was there. If he wanted to tie my boots, more power to him.
When he finished, he straightened. Uneasily, I slowly looked way, way, way up.
I felt like an itty-bitty child standing next to him.
We watched each other in silence. Me warily, and him inaccessible, before he turned and walked back to the recliner and sat down, opened his laptop, and began pounding again.
I decided to ignore everyone’s stares, as he had.
It worked for him. So, it might as well work for me.
“Stash, can I borrow your plate?” I tucked a stray strand behind my ear.
“Why?” he countered.
“To wake sleeping beauty up.” I rolled my eyes. Duh. As if I could eat anything right now. I turned to Ally. “I’ll need the bag, too.” Just in case.
Luckily, they didn’t argue, handing over the items amiably.
“Sure you want to do that, sweetheart?” Cole inquired, voice of emptiness, squinting to see something on his screen.
Go figure. The only one, who had inkling of what I was up to, was him. He was too shrewd for his own good.
“Yep.” I shrugged. I didn’t have any better ideas.
He grunted and kept reading. Cuddly, he wasn’t at the moment.
“What’s she going to do?” Stash munched on a piece of bacon he had plucked from his plate before I had taken it.
“I think it’s safe to assume you won’t want your food back,” Cole murmured and smiled at Stash.
Oh. Mmm. I swayed toward him and stumbled. The man had a great smile.
Wait.
My eyebrows burrowed.
Stash got a darn smile? Well, that certainly put me in my place. Not that I hadn’t already understood he was angry, but heck. He could be halfway polite. The conditions of our fun time on the balcony had only been a one off. Nothing serious. No need to be rude the next day.
Well, I didn’t have time to dwell on his incivility. I needed to deal with Brent.
I cautiously made my way back to the couch, drums beating Satan’s symphony inside my skull. I didn’t really want to fall again and I wasn’t all that steady on my feet to begin with. Especially, since I held the plate as far away as I could. And held my breath.
By the time I got there I was dizzy from lack of oxygen and had tripped three times. I was probably still a little drunk. How lovely. It appeared I had consumed enough tequila to save some for the next morning. Too bad the effects were never as pleasant as the night before.
I needed to get rid of the food quick so I could breathe.
I kept a good grip on the trash bag and positioned the plate of torture on the couch, right under Brent’s nose. I took a step back, gulping in a lung full of much needed air, and waited. I wondered how long it would take. I started counting in my head.
…fourteen-one thousand, his nose crinkled.
…seventeen-one thousand, he coughed.