hungover.
“So, let me get this straight, I slept in your roommate’s bed last night?”
“That’s right.”
“That’s good news. For a minute there I was afraid it might have been your room.”
“And that would have been bad because…”
“Well,” she said, hoping the heat she felt in her cheeks didn’t show, “you don’t look like the type to have ganja wall hangings.” She looked at him suspiciously. “So where is the roommate? Weren’t you worried he might come home and possibly climb into bed with me?”
A laugh erupted from his chest before he could stop it, but he did manage to cut it off pretty quick. If Ben had come home and found Brandy in his bed, he probably would’ve gotten right back out to go smoke another bowl.
“No, I wasn’t worried about that.” He pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge. “Ben’s backpacking around Europe and won’t be back for another month. He’s actually moving out at the end of the summer. I was just giving the kid a break until he felt steady on his feet after college.”
“Oh.” She seemed relieved by his response and gave him a shy smile. “Thank you for taking me home with you, Marco. I know it probably wasn’t something you intended to do.”
His chest shook with laughter again. Damn, if she only remembered half the stuff she’d done. “You weren’t in any shape to be on your own.”
“Hey, come on. There’s no need to laugh at me. I mean, I wasn’t that bad.”
“Not that bad?” He raised an eyebrow and decided to have a little fun with her. “When you slapped that waitress in the bar, I was laying down money that you could’ve taken her. But then she called in the bouncer and all bets were off.”
The color drained from her face. “I—I slapped a waitress?”
“No. You didn’t.” He grinned when her face flushed with annoyance. “But you did ask me to go to bed with you.”
“I did not!”
“Oh yes. You sure as hell did.” He waved the spatula at her and then went back to cracking eggs into the pan.
It was quiet. The only sound came from the frying eggs and the sizzling bratwurst he’d tossed into the skillet. Why wasn’t she saying anything? He turned around and found her staring at him with a solemn expression.
“What?”
“Did I really ask you to go to bed with me?”
Something about the fragile tone of her voice made him hesitant to nod. He gave a brief nod.
“Oh.” She swallowed hard and then stared at the floor. “And you didn’t want to?”
Fuck? What was this, a trick question? They’d already had the “we’re not each other’s type conversation.” Even if he was getting the urge to say he was wrong…
“Brandy…”
“No, it’s probably better if you don’t answer that.” Her smile was just as unconvincing as her words. “I’m overly sensitive—my friends tell me that all the time.”
What was up with her shitty friends and cousins? He shoved a hand through his hair and sighed.
“You don’t want to get involved with me, Brandy.”
“I know. Of course I don’t,” she replied a little too quickly. “I’m just wondering if my parents would be horrified or extremely proud to know what was going on with me right now.”
Why did she put so much weight on what her parents thought? She was a grown woman.
“Screw them.”
Her mouth opened in obvious shock. “Screw them? My parents?”
“Not literally.”
“I realize that.” She stared at him for a moment, hard, as if trying to gauge if he was serious or not. “You know what, never mind. You’re right, Marco. It’s definitely better in the end that we didn’t sleep together.”
“Right.” It was?
He pressed the spatula hard against the bratwurst, taking pleasure is the way the meat spit and hissed. Why didn’t he like her admitting that? It was fine when he’d thought it, but to hear her say it was different. Hypocrite .
Marco scooped up some eggs and meat onto a plate for her and set it on the table.
“How
“So, let me get this straight, I slept in your roommate’s bed last night?”
“That’s right.”
“That’s good news. For a minute there I was afraid it might have been your room.”
“And that would have been bad because…”
“Well,” she said, hoping the heat she felt in her cheeks didn’t show, “you don’t look like the type to have ganja wall hangings.” She looked at him suspiciously. “So where is the roommate? Weren’t you worried he might come home and possibly climb into bed with me?”
A laugh erupted from his chest before he could stop it, but he did manage to cut it off pretty quick. If Ben had come home and found Brandy in his bed, he probably would’ve gotten right back out to go smoke another bowl.
“No, I wasn’t worried about that.” He pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge. “Ben’s backpacking around Europe and won’t be back for another month. He’s actually moving out at the end of the summer. I was just giving the kid a break until he felt steady on his feet after college.”
“Oh.” She seemed relieved by his response and gave him a shy smile. “Thank you for taking me home with you, Marco. I know it probably wasn’t something you intended to do.”
His chest shook with laughter again. Damn, if she only remembered half the stuff she’d done. “You weren’t in any shape to be on your own.”
“Hey, come on. There’s no need to laugh at me. I mean, I wasn’t that bad.”
“Not that bad?” He raised an eyebrow and decided to have a little fun with her. “When you slapped that waitress in the bar, I was laying down money that you could’ve taken her. But then she called in the bouncer and all bets were off.”
The color drained from her face. “I—I slapped a waitress?”
“No. You didn’t.” He grinned when her face flushed with annoyance. “But you did ask me to go to bed with you.”
“I did not!”
“Oh yes. You sure as hell did.” He waved the spatula at her and then went back to cracking eggs into the pan.
It was quiet. The only sound came from the frying eggs and the sizzling bratwurst he’d tossed into the skillet. Why wasn’t she saying anything? He turned around and found her staring at him with a solemn expression.
“What?”
“Did I really ask you to go to bed with me?”
Something about the fragile tone of her voice made him hesitant to nod. He gave a brief nod.
“Oh.” She swallowed hard and then stared at the floor. “And you didn’t want to?”
Fuck? What was this, a trick question? They’d already had the “we’re not each other’s type conversation.” Even if he was getting the urge to say he was wrong…
“Brandy…”
“No, it’s probably better if you don’t answer that.” Her smile was just as unconvincing as her words. “I’m overly sensitive—my friends tell me that all the time.”
What was up with her shitty friends and cousins? He shoved a hand through his hair and sighed.
“You don’t want to get involved with me, Brandy.”
“I know. Of course I don’t,” she replied a little too quickly. “I’m just wondering if my parents would be horrified or extremely proud to know what was going on with me right now.”
Why did she put so much weight on what her parents thought? She was a grown woman.
“Screw them.”
Her mouth opened in obvious shock. “Screw them? My parents?”
“Not literally.”
“I realize that.” She stared at him for a moment, hard, as if trying to gauge if he was serious or not. “You know what, never mind. You’re right, Marco. It’s definitely better in the end that we didn’t sleep together.”
“Right.” It was?
He pressed the spatula hard against the bratwurst, taking pleasure is the way the meat spit and hissed. Why didn’t he like her admitting that? It was fine when he’d thought it, but to hear her say it was different. Hypocrite .
Marco scooped up some eggs and meat onto a plate for her and set it on the table.
“How
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