Page 67 of Crazy About Love (All About Love)

His eyes widen and a laugh pops from his mouth. “What rating system are you using?” He laughs again. “You just unzipped my pants.”

“That is so not PG-13 material. PG, maybe.”

“You’d let your kids watch that?”

“PG stands for ‘parental guidance.’ People are in their underwear on Disney shows.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah, but they aren’t…excited.”

“There’s one inThe Little Mermaid.”

“Only adults and horny teenagers notice that.”

I giggle, then groan and frown because it rattles my headache. Alec’s eyes turn sympathetic and he gently smooths some strands of hair from my face.

“Coffee,” he says, and I nod.

“Do you need any?” I ask while he grabs a mug and cranks on the water to wash it.

“I was surprisingly sober for the evening.”

One of my eyebrows rises. “So, you remember everything with perfect clarity?”

He pauses, his soapy thumbs rubbing circles on the cat design on the outside of the coffee mug. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. “As much as I can, given that it’s still early,” he teases, but the joke doesn’t reach his eyes. He really is a terrible liar.

I reach over and open the cabinet that holds all my spices. I take out my small bag of sugar and fill up the sugar cup I keep next to the coffeemaker. “You were excited, huh?” I ask, trying to bring the conversation back to its playful nature.

“Hmm?”

“Zipper down, Alec up?” I tease, holding back a laugh. He rolls his eyes to meet mine, and shakes his head.

“You wereveryfriendly, Theresa.” He pauses to shut off the water and dry off the now-clean mug. “I’m also not the only one cursed with a desirable body.”

I snort and toss a spoonful of sugar at him, which he immediately wipes up with a rag. I don’t know how he tolerates my messy habits; he’s the only one who doesn’t badger or tease me about the unorganized disaster of my apartment.

He gets my coffee ready, and I take soothing sips while he talks about the party and how Liz was crazy to ask Jace to watch over me when he was well on his way to passing out. I tell him that I may have offered myself to Jace in a state of absolute stupidity, and he laughs, but it doesn’t sound very genuine. I usually risk hurt feelings in the name of honesty, though. From what I’ve learned with Eli, I never ever want to tiptoe around things to avoid the truth, as painful as it may be to hear.

After my cup is drained, Alec heads to the living room and folds up his other towel. I watch his practiced hands make perfect creases in the fluffy fabric, imagine those hands on me, and wish I could remember how they felt. Last night couldn’t have been easy; it’s only been a week since he expressed his feelings for me, said he wanted to kiss me. I’m pretty sure that happened last night, and what’s worse isn’t the fact that I don’t remember it, but the fact thathedoes.

He flumps the towel on top of the other one and searches his pocket for his keys. I don’t know his plans for the day; I haven’t known his plansat all. I used to know every detail of his life; now I’m so unsure of where he’s going, and it hurts my heart.

“Heading out?” I ask, setting the mug into the very full sink. Cleaning is on my to-do list today, unfortunately.

“Yep. Errands to run, laundry to fold, girls to get over.” He winks, but it doesn’t help the guilt I’ve been feeling. I rush to block the door, holding my arms out to make myself wider. His eyebrows rise in amusement.

“Did I hurt you?” I ask, staring him dead in the eyes, knowing he’ll hold my gaze for much longer than is socially acceptable.

The playful smile returns to his lips. “You were aggressive.”

“No,” I say, forcing my voice to stay serious. “Alec…did I hurt you?”

The small pauses have been killing me, but this pause is so long that I think I die and then reincarnate, all within its time frame. I watch the greens of his eyes; the small amount of sun peeking through the slats in my blinds create tiny sparkles in his irises, making them look watery. He slowly opens his mouth, the playfulness gone.

“No. You didn’t hurt me.”

He’s lying. I know it, he knows I know it, but neither of us refutes it. Unlike me, he lies to protect me from the truth. He doesn’t know why I find that more painful, and he deserves to know everything, including the conversation I had yesterday.

“Eli called me,” I blurt out.

---