Page 65 of Rare Blend
OH, GOOD, YOU’RE UP
Can someone turn down the sun?
Dry and crusted with last night’s makeup, my lashes stick together as my eyes peel open. I wince at the harsh light. My head throbs relentlessly, pounding with the rhythm of my heartbeat. I crank my neck, feeling the dull pain of a strain. I slept on my stomach, and I never sleep on my stomach. Moaning, I roll over, reaching for my lumbar pillow, but I don’t feel it. My hand pats along the opposite side of the bed. It’s not there. Forcing myself to sit up slightly, I turn to find it.
None of my pillows are here. Neither are my blankets.
Something isn’t right.
Everything is backward.
I rub my eyes, trying to get them to adjust. I’m definitely in a cottage, but it’s notmycottage. Did I go inside the wrong one last night?
A burst of panic hits me, and I pat down my body. Relief floods through me when I find I’m still wearing last night’s clothing, minus that nightmare of a vest. I slide my thumb under the band of my underwear and I’m relieved to find they’re firmly in place. Nothing likethathappened, thankfully.
The events of last night start to flash through my head like a montage of fuzzy photographs. I remember taking the lemon drop shots, seeing Ethan, dancing a little, and then it starts to get a little hazy. There were tequila shots and that guy, Cole, and then it’s all a blur. The last thing I remember is a man’s warm, callused hands sliding under my thighs, carrying me, and putting me in a truck. I remember they were callused because of how they scraped across my skin. And I remember feeling like I was being cocooned in a warm blanket, like I was safe.
Cole must’ve taken me home, but not knowing what cottage I was in, he let me into the wrong one.
The slapping sound of skin padding against hardwood, slow and quiet, approaches the room. Whoever it is, they’re being intentionally quiet, as if they don’t want to wake me. Before my brain can wake up enough to start filtering through whoever is in this cottage with me, Ethan appears in the doorway with bare feet, well-worn jeans, and a white T-shirt. His hair is still wet from a shower.
“Oh, good, you’re up.” He says it so casually. Like it’s not weird that I woke up in his bed.
Oh, my God. I slept in Ethan’s bed.
He must see the panic on my face, because he chuckles. Ethan chuckles, smiling freely.
That’s even weirder than sleeping in his bed.
“Calm down,” he says. “I couldn’t get your drunk ass inside your place last night, so I put you to sleep in here. I slept on the couch.”
That’s strange. Because all of these cottages take the same key. Either he doesn’t know that, or hedoesknow that. I’m struggling to process it, so I push it down. I’ll deal with that detail later. When I’m not foggy from alcohol.
He hands me a glass of water and sets a cup of coffee on the nightstand. “Water first then you can have some coffee.” Thenhe reaches into his pocket and produces a small pill bottle. “And some ibuprofen in case you’re feeling like shit.”
My eyes dart between the three items. This is a surprisingly sweet gesture. I’m not sure what to make of it.
My mouth is dry and cotton-y so I chug the water and take two of the pills. All the while, Ethan remains in the room, watching me, amusement in his eyes.
Laugh it up.
I can only imagine what I look like. My hair sticking up on all ends, a tangled rat’s nest. My makeup is probably smudged and clown-like. Basically, I’m pretty sure I look the worst I ever have.
“Thank you…for…all of this.”
He nods with a gentle smile. “I have to go in to work, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”
“Isn’t it Sunday? And where’s Goose?” I look around, waiting to see his nosy big eyes, but he’s not around.
“It’s not really a nine-to-five job.” He laughs. “And Goose is at my parent’s house. It’s just you and me.”
I swallow, trying to ignore the way my stomach is dipping.
“Anyway,” he continues. “I’ll see you.”
I remain sitting up at the edge of the bed, still in shock, as I hear Ethan move through the cottage.
The front door creaks. “Bye, Marisa,” Ethan calls out before I hear it lock into place.
