Page 52 of I'm Your Guy
Truly the worst.
NINETEEN
Tommaso
What did I just do?
What the hell did I just do?
This is the soundtrack in my head as I take a seat on my new sofa. My heart is pounding. My blood runs hot.
“Tommy, are you listening to me?” my sister demands.
“No,” I practically growl, and she laughs as if I’ve said something funny.
But there is nothing funny about the sound of the backdoor closing on Carter or the shame that’s coursing through me.
“Hey! You begged me for an idea for what to get Mom for Christmas, and I finally have one. So pay attention or I’ll give it to somebody else.”
I take a ragged breath. If I’d been focused on the right things—like Christmas with Mom—none of this would have happened. “All right, what is this idea?”
“She wants a weighted blanket.”
“A what?”
“A weighted blanket,” my sister says slowly. “It’s a special kind. They’re heavy and help you sleep solidly.”
“She having trouble sleeping?” My blood pressure goes up another degree.
“Doesn’t everybody sometimes?” my sister asks softly.
Why yes, they do. I’m probably never sleeping again. I can’t believe I kissed him. It was tremendously inappropriate. The man is working for me. But it was just so fucking stupid.
I’ve completely come unglued.
“I can send you some links. Just don’t get sticker shock,” my sister says. “They’re expensive, and you’re cheap.”
That’s okay, Carter can pick one out, my brain says.
Then I want to slap myself. Carter is probably not even speaking to me right now. I didn’t just kiss him. I pinned him to a sheet of stainless steel and restrained him.
I left marks on his wrists.
God, I want to die of embarrassment.
“Tommy?”
“Weighted blanket,” I croak. “Got it.”
“Are you okay?”
No way. “Just, uh, tired. Got home an hour ago from a road trip.”
“Ah,” she says. “Can I bend your brain about one more thing, though?”
“I guess.”
“Look—my hairdresser says that Cousin Lisa says that Uncle Vin and Marco are trying to set up a reconciliation with you. But that you’re, um, too afraid to meet up with them.”
