Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“You brought me back here.”
“Yep.” He shrugs. “How are you feeling?”
“What’s a level up from like death?”
“Not sure there is anything worse than that.”
“Hmm.” I look around. “Did I have my bag with me?”
“No bag, no cell.”
“Great.” I scrub my hands down my face and fall to my back, now more concerned with what happened to Carly then anything else. A warm, heavy weight lands on my stomach. My eyes fly open, and I look down.
“She likes you,” he says, and I focus on him across the room as I rub the top of Skye’s head.
“She’s sweet.”
“She’s badass.”
“Whatever you say.” I fight back another round of nausea and squeeze my eyes closed.
“I know you don’t want to, but it would probably be good to get up and put something in your stomach.”
“Do you want me to puke in your bed?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then let’s not mention that again.” I open one eye and find him closer to the bed than he was before and still very shirtless. “Am I wearing the only shirt you own?”
“Yep.” I catch his smile before he bends, putting his fist in the bed next to me. “You need to get up and put something in your stomach.”
“Okay.” I agree quietly, even though I have no desire whatsoever to leave his bed. “Do you know where my clothes are?”
“No.” He grins, and I narrow my eyes on his. “They’re in the dryer in the bathroom.”
“Thanks.” I wait for him to move so I can get up, but he doesn’t. With a huff I push to sit up and then toss my legs over the side of the bed opposite of him and place my feet on the floor. When I stand my legs shake, my head pounds and my stomach rolls, but I still find it in myself to make sure and pull down his shirt as I stand. “Where’s the bathroom?” He motions to a closed door, and I walk across the room to it. When I walk inside, I use the restroom then go to the sink and turn on the water before I look in the mirror. I cringe at my appearance; my makeup isn’t so bad, but my face looks pale and drawn like I went on a bender.
There’s a knock on the door and before I can even call out, it’s opened, and Clay is stepping inside. “Here’s a fresh toothbrush, and if you want, feel free to jump in the shower.”
“I don’t want to intrude more than I already have.”
“Towels are above the washer/dryer.” I nod and his eyes scan my face. “What bar were you at?”
“Boots.”
He jerks up his chin in acknowledgement, then leaves without another word.
I look at the glass-encased shower with its multitude of nozzles. I should probably not feel comfortable enough in this man’s house to get naked, but I still find myself grabbing a towel and taking off my clothes, placing them on the vanity. Before letting the water warm up, I step under the spray in the shower and instantly feel a little better as the cold water washes over me. I use the stuff he has in bottles that smell like him to wash up and close my eyes as I try to remember what happened last night. I know Carly and I were having a good time and that the guys were around, but it’s like after I was given that second drink everything is a black void. And I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if Clay hadn’t come across me.
When I get out of the shower, I dry off and brush my teeth before I go to the dryer and take out my jeans and put them on, deciding to just to wear his shirt rather then fuss with the top I wore last night.
With my hair wrapped in a towel I take my stuff with me, leave the bathroom, and find the bedroom empty, so I make my way to the door and pause to take a deep breath before I open it.
I step out into another huge open room with brick walls, more windows, sturdy looking furniture, and low leather couches. With one look around, it’s clear that a man lives here, but that man has seriously good taste. Seeing Clay in the kitchen area I pad that way and he stops what he’s doing to watch me.
“Any chance I’m getting my shirt back before you leave.”
“Nope.”
“Looks better on you anyway.” He motions for me to come to him. As I take a seat on one of the barstools, he places some kind of green looking drink on the counter along with a glass of water. “That will help with the hangover.”
“Thanks.” I pick it up and take a sip. “It’s not half as gross as I thought it might be.”