Page 77 of Carry On
Right, because I’d torn my dress shirt open.
“Good.” I dragged the pillow back over my face with a grunt. “Now, leave me to reap the sorrows of my poor decisions—the drinking, not the sex.”
“Not today, cupcake,” he retorted. A moment later, the blankets and sheets were ripped away, leaving me cold.
“No,” I groaned. “Why?”
“You have work,” Nash reminded me.
“Fuck,” I said. I didn’t want to go to work.
“Here.” He tore away the pillow. The jackass. Still, I sat up with a loud moan as I felt the movement in every part of my body. I was also fairly certain that I was feeling Nash in places that would have me sitting in highly specific positions throughout the day. I glanced up at him, and he looked far too handsome for six in the morning. “Take these.”
He held out two painkillers, which I took after accepting the bottle of water. I downed the pills and welcomed the water.
“Drink it all, boo,” Nash said.
“Still no,” I told him with a shake of my head.
“Take a shower,” he continued as if he didn’t hear me. “There’s breakfast and coffee in the kitchen for you. Coffee is on lockdown until you finish the water.”
He didn’t stick around as my sluggish brain tried to catch up with what he was saying. He cooked me breakfast? And brought me medicine? What the hell was this?
“You can cook?” I yelled out the open bedroom door.
“Yeah, and I’m damn good at it,” Nash hollered back.
“Well, shit,” I muttered. Instead of getting up, I flopped right back down to give my brain a chance to wrap around that little fact.
Well, that, and the fact that Nash was taking care of me.
Being taken care of by Nash was the absolute opposite of what I needed post my conversation with Dean. It did nothing to help my state of mind as I navigated my day. Well, that, and the awful hangover I had.
It made me irritable enough that even kicking Sebastian’s ass in court wasn’t enough to lift my mood. I needed a nap and probably another gallon of water before I’d feel more like myself.
“So,” Sebastian began as he fell in step alongside me outside the courthouse, “I heard a rumor around the water cooler that you got married.”
Well, fuck. That got around fast.
“What water cooler are you standing around?” I countered.
“The one where people are talking about you getting married.”
Double fuck. I didn’t like being talked about.
“Yeah.” I nodded slowly. “Yeah, I did.”
“That’s it?” he demanded and stopped on the sidewalk. Sighing, I did the same, facing him. “That’s all you’ve got to say to me?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he mused. “How about some details abouthowthis happened? I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.”
“I kept—we kept it quiet. He’s not the kind of guy who likes attention.” That wasn’t a lie. Honestly, I didn’t think Nash ever would’ve been the meet-the-friends kind of boyfriend.
“So quiet that no one had a clue what was happening?”
“Yeah.”
