Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(70)
I ran my hand over the soft pillowcase and then over my face, thinking that taking the walk of shame was all that was left of another monumental catastrophe in my history with men. But damn, his pillow and this bed were comfortable. It was as if I were cradled in the soft pillow top of the mattress, giving my body the sensation of floating on a lovely cloud. I slid a foot, realizing that I was no longer wearing socks because I could feel the silky sheets without obstruction.
When did I lose my socks?
Oh cripes… my legs are bare, too. What the hell am I wearing?
The memories came back with painful clarity: Adam stripping off my socks and laughing without humor at my condition; him pulling a shirt over my head while holding me steady.
Oh God, how pathetic. I will never, ever, ever get that drunk again. What was I thinking? Oh, yeah… the four-hundred different ways my life sucked.
I’d been on this path for so long, this “I have to become a doctor and never fail another human being again” endless loop, that I’d stopped paying attention to everything else going on around me.
There’s nothing worse to top a hangover than a healthy dose of self-loathing. I listened to Adam’s steady breathing, wondering what his reaction to me would be when he woke up. Maybe I should just leave. Get dressed and sneak out, leave him undisturbed and avoid seeing him struggle for a subtle way to get rid of me. He’d been nothing but kind to me so far tonight, so I was betting he wouldn’t be a complete * while washing his hands of the puking mess.
But it was still dark out, I was warm and toasty and comfortable, and maybe, just maybe I could get another hour of sleep in before slipping out undetected?
As I lay there thinking about my options, that urge to go hit me. My mind did the mental math trying to determine how long I could lay here before having to pee goes from necessity to urgency.
I leaned up on my elbow and squinted, mapping out a path to his bathroom in the dark. His window coverings were so thick, even the streetlight didn’t break through.
A large hand slid over my hip. “Where you going?” he grumbled.
Shit. I cleared my rancid throat. “I have to go.”
His hand gently clenched me through the covers. “No, you don’t. Lay down, babe. Go back to sleep.”
Was he worried I’d leave? A small simper erupted from hearing him call me “babe”. “I have to use the bathroom.”
His hand tensed, eased, and then quickly slid away. “You feeling sick again?”
“No, just have to use the bathroom.”
“You sure?”
I nodded in the dark. “Yeah.”
Adam took a deep breath and yawned. “Light switch is on the left, inside the door. Yell if you need me.”
I glanced back at his darkened silhouette; one very impressive shoulder was bare and visible to the naked eye. He was on his side, right behind me. This was all so very confusing. He’d avoided me for what? A week? And now he’s practically spooning with me?
And then he called me babe? Even after making an idiot out of myself, defiling his private space, he had a pet name for me? A chill hit my bare legs and feet while the residual drunkenness made me crave to lie back down. It made the need to pee even more urgent.
I gently closed the door behind me, squinting at the sudden brightness of the lights above the vanity. I flipped the next switch, finding the overhead fan. The third switch turned on the recessed lighting, which wasn’t so hard on my bloodshot eyes. Now that I wasn’t so ill, I was able to absorb more of his very nicely appointed bathroom.
He had a large, glass-encased shower with what looked like sandstone tiles in soothing earth tones that dominated the space. Two shower heads. Nice. The vanity was dark mahogany and looked like an oversized antique chest of drawers with a beautiful granite countertop and black metal loops for pulls that coordinated with everything. It was rustic and gave the room a very masculine spa-like vibe.
The entire bathroom looked brand new, completely remodeled, and made me think that my bathroom in my house was an outdated joke compared to what he had going on. A hot shower in that tempting space would certainly feel like heaven right now. A hot shower with someone as sexy as Adam in there with me sounded even better.
I rubbed my face, trying to push away the slight spins. I was glad he made me take aspirin before I tried to lie down. Maybe he really does like me? He did leave wherever he was to come pick me up. That has to count for something. Doesn’t it? And he called me “babe.” Why would he do that if he didn’t have some sort of feelings for me, unless I was just one of several babes. Could we be back together? Wait, we were never together. But I was just sleeping next to him in his bed. Is that? Are we? What does that mean? Oh my God, my head hurts.
I pulled the last five squares of paper off the roll. Figures. Everything was so pristine and yet there were no visible extra rolls? I leaned forward, catching the edge of the vanity door with the tips of my fingernails, fumbling and coming up empty.
I washed up, rinsed my mouth out several times, and contemplated whether searching for a new roll of toilet paper would be considered snooping.
I gingerly pressed the door handle down on the linen closet, peering inside for anything that resembled a roll.
Even his closet was neat. Well, the towels were shoved into a haphazard pile, but they were folded. Huh, a bachelor that folds stuff? I glanced back at the shower, noting two dark brown towels hanging over the top of the glass.