Page 32 of Flashback
Humiliation burst over her. Where was a sinkhole when she needed one?
The last time she’d gotten drunk enough to be ill, it hadn’t been at all pretty. “Sick? How sick?”
“Enough to require a hose down.” He grinned.
Her gaze traveled over him. “I suppose that hose down included you.”
“Yep. My stuff is in the dryer now.” He pushed off the wall, muscles bunching and flexing, making her heart race from something other than embarrassment. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
“Ah, I’ll just . . .”
“No rush. Take another shower if you want,” he said over his shoulder before his wide shoulders, and tight ass disappeared from view.
Shower. Right. No. She’d leave that for after Rylan left.
Sucking in a deep breath, she pulled out the bottom drawer of her dresser and grabbed a shirt and yoga pants. He might be comfortable wandering around in his underwear, but she wasn’t. Constant criticism from Stuart had cured her of that long ago.
Why was she still letting that man in her head?
If she wanted to walk around in her underwear, she could. And she would.
After Rylan went home.
Grinning at her idiotic thoughts, she tugged on the pants but left the T-shirt on top of her dresser.
There. Nothing wrong with wearing a tank top without a bra. It’s not like she had much real estate in the boob department anyway, they weren’t going to be swinging around attracting attention.
Chin up, she exited her bedroom and went to find Rylan and the promised breakfast.
The scent of frying bacon hit her nostrils before she stepped into the kitchen. There was a fresh mug of coffee on the counter and an empty plate ready for whatever Rylan was standing at the stove cooking. In his underwear. God, he was gorgeous. All long limbs and sleek muscles her hands and lips wanted to touch.
She forced her gaze away, struggling to come up with something to say that wasn’tI’m not inebriated now. Rylan saved her from her hyped-up libido.
“Take a seat. I’ve got eggs and bacon coming. Nothing beats a good greasy breakfast after a night of hard drinking.”
Her stomach rolled, and she couldn’t decide if she felt ill or hungry. Only one way to find out. She’d have to take him at his word about the morning after. She wasn’t a complete stranger to overindulging in alcohol, but that was in her younger years when she could bounce out of bed as though she hadn’t loaded her system with what amounted to liquid poison.
Then there was the other thing about morning afters she wasn’t used to. Hot men cooking her breakfast.
“Drink your coffee. It’ll help,” Rylan said over his shoulder, a knowing smile curling his lips.
Dropping her gaze, she stared at her mug. Damn it. She had to stop looking at him.
Seconds later, he brought the frypan over and served her a plateful of bacon and eggs. And no, she didn’t notice the way his arms flexed as he dished up the meal.
Distraction. She needed a distraction from the sexy, mostly naked man in her kitchen. Leaning forward, she took a sniff and decided her stomach wasn’t going to revolt. She actually felt hungry.
“You’re not having any?” she asked picking up her fork.
“No. I ate before you woke up.”
“Oh?” She glanced at the clock on the wall and nearly choked. “It’s eleven?”
“Yep.” Nodding, Rylan cradled a mug in his big hands and leaned against the counter by the sink. “You slept so long I kept checking on you to make sure you were breathing.”
Warmth flooded her face, and it had nothing to do with the steam rising off her plate. “Ah, that’s . . . thank you.”
His only response was a smile that said he knew all kinds of secrets.
