Page 71 of Playbook
Her eyes widen in panic.
“Kidding. I slept in my bed.”
Her body relaxes. “So we didn’t…” She points her pinky finger at me. “Nothing happened, right? I remember getting here, but not much after.”
“Nope. Nothing happened,” I reassure her. “I tried to get you to take my room, but you kept saying, ‘I am not sleeping in your sex sheets.’”
“Right.” She nods, eyes fluttering closed. “I remember now. And to be fair, when I asked when the last time you washed them was, you couldn’t remember.”
Another chuckle shakes my chest. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I drank too much.” She runs a hand through her hair. “How do you look so chipper?”
“I’ve been up for a while. Went for a run and did some mobility stretches.”
She stares at me like she’s waiting for me to say I’m only kidding, then says, “Athletes are weird.”
“You’re not wrong there.”
“Here.” She hands me my T-shirt back. “Sorry you had to take care of me.”
“It was nothing.” I wave her off. “Did you have a good time?”
“I did.” The laugh that follows is light and airy.
“Me too.” It’s the first time that I hung out with a girl like that. Like we were really dating, minus all the making out. Do couples make out as much as people not in relationships? I’ve been thinking on that. I sure hope the answer is yes. Someday I might want to be one of those and I can’t imagine hours and hours of talking and hanging out without it. I’m in blue-ball hell from one night of it.
“I should get home.”
“No need to rush off. You said last night you didn’t have any plans today.”
“Then why did you wake me?”
One side of my mouth inches higher. “I was getting bored and impatient for you to wake up. Want to grab breakfast?”
“Don’t you have things to do?”
“Not really. Practice isn’t for a few hours.”
“I don’t think I can go out in public like this.” She looks down at her wrinkled dress.
I hold out the T-shirt again.
“Unless you have a matching pair of pants that’ll fit me, that won’t work either.” She stands. “It’s fine. I am going to grab an Uber and get out of your hair.”
Like I’d let her take an Uber looking like a sexy, rumpled goddess.
“Stay.” I stand and block her path to the door. “We’ll eat in. I’ll make us breakfast and then I can drop you at your place on my way to practice.”
“You cook?” She arches a brow.
“Yeah. What do you want?” I start for the kitchen.
She doesn’t respond. In fact she still looks like she’s about to jet for the door.
“Tiramisu okay?” I toss her a wink.
Her eyes narrow in a playful glare, but she follows me. She takes a seat on one of the stools in front of the island and puts her head in her hands. I should have made sure she took some Advil last night. I had no idea she was going to hurt so much today.
