Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue #1)(44)

“Shit!” I flew to a seated position and looked to my right, regretting the sudden move immediately. I grabbed my head in a weak attempt to ease the throbbing pain.

“Whoa, take it easy Em. I’m sure you’ve got a killer headache after last night’s performance.” Adrian smiled.

“Adrian?” I was squinting, trying to keep as much sunlight out of my eyes as possible.

“Ha! Ya, it’s me. Disappointed?” He coyly smiled as he accurately sensed my reaction. I took note that Adrian was fully dressed in the clothes he was wearing last night, save for his shoes, which were on the floor. I was wearing the same shirt, but my face flushed when I noticed my absence of pants from underneath my covers. I looked over at Adrian in horror.

“Where are my pants?” Classy question, Ember.

“You tossed them over there.” Adrian motioned to the other side of the bed with his hand.

“Oh. So, we didn’t . . .” God, could this be any more humiliating?

“No, Ember, we didn’t.” His voice was terse.

“Disappointed?” I shot his previous question back at him.

“I’m disappointed you’d think so little of me, frankly.” He shook his head and swung his legs to the side of the bed. “We never even had drunk sex when we were together, Ember, What makes you think we’d start now?” He wasn’t looking at me so I couldn’t read his face.

“I’m sorry, last night is very fuzzy. Oh, damn, I was an awful bitch to Josh, wasn’t I?” I covered my eyes with my forearm and laid back down on the bed.

“Seemed like he deserved it a little,” Adrian chuckled. “ I’ll go make some coffee; come out when you’re ready. Take it easy when you stand.”

Suddenly, I remembered a lot about last night. I remembered yelling at Josh, Bo catching my concrete dive, leaving with Adrian, and then Adrian catching me. I shouldn’t wear those shoes anymore. My stomach dropped as I remembered yelling at Bo on the phone, and then trying to kiss Adrian in my bed. What a mess. I walked wearily to the kitchen, where I saw Adrian pouring coffee and checking his Blackberry.

“Seems like our boy Bo really has it bad for you.” Adrian smirked at his Blackberry.

This conversation feels familiar. Oh, yea, last night . . .

“What do you mean?” I wandered to the living room, recalling painfully that I had to be at work in an hour.

“He e-mailed your boss and told her that the four of us got together for a dinner meeting and we all got food poisoning. You’re off the hook for work today.” Adrian wore a wry smirk as he tucked his Blackberry back in to his khaki’s.

“That was thoughtful.” I tried passively.

“Yea, OK, we’ll go with thoughtful.” Adrian sat next to me on the couch.

“What’s your problem with Bo?”

He didn’t hesitate before he launched into his spiel. “First, you call him Bo, meaning you know him outside of work. Second, he likes you. Third, you like him. Those are my issues with Cavanaugh.

“Cutting right to the chase this morning, Council? First,” I retorted, “Monica and I happened to see Bo play at Finnegan’s last weekend. It wasn’t until Monday that we learned we’d be working together. Second, maybe he does. And third, maybe I do.” I shrugged, not breaking eye contact. Conversational filter clearly hung over, as well.

Adrian’s forehead creased and he closed his eyes for a moment.

“Adrian, please don’t say anything to anyone about Bo.” I was walking the fine line between self-preservation and revealing too much.

“Is there anything to tell?” Adrian studied my face, imploring the truth from me.

His question sent chills through my body and froze my face. I opened my mouth to speak, but Adrian put up his hand.

“Never mind, I don’t think I want to know. I’d never say anything, Ember. I respect you . . . and your decisions.” He seemed sad. “Just be careful, OK?” His eyes darkened as he put a firm hand on my knee.

“Thanks, Adrian.”

I felt a little weird talking about this with him, especially since we hadn’t properly and soberly addressed what we’d talked about on the beach. My face paled at yet another piece of last night’s puzzle. Adrian talked a lot about his feelings for me in the past, but hadn’t suggested that they were any different in the present.

“You OK?” Adrian asked.

“I need to check on Monica,” I lied. I didn’t want to rehash his feelings for me or further discuss my budding romance with his coworker.

I quickly texted Monica:

Me: Morning. You ok? Did you hear we got the day off due to “food poisoning” courtesy of Bo?

Monica: Hey, I probably feel better than you do, Hot-Mess-Express. So grateful for food poisoning right now. I’ll come over later . . .when I decide to move.

Me: Adrian stayed here last night. NOTHING happened. Don’t call, I’ll call you. I just needed to get that out there.

Monica: You’re lucky outside noises still hurt my head this morning or I’d ignore your request to not call. Literally dying waiting for your call.

I put down my phone, took a huge breath, and returned my attention to Adrian.

“Ooooh,” Adrian said in a revelatory tone, leaning back against the couch.