Page 71 of Love & Other Drunken Mistakes
The smile returns, tentatively at first, and then more genuinely as I finish off the second bowl and grab a third helping.
After dinner, we both collapse on the couch. “I ate too much,” Alex complains, head on my lap, hands clasped over his stomach.
I chuckle and run my fingers through his hair, playing with the curls. “You certainly didn’t have to worry about leftovers today.”
“Yeah, you barely left me any for lunch tomorrow,” he replies with a slight pout. “Guess I’ll have to make a bigger batch next time.”
My hand stills at the words ‘next time.’ It’s the first time he hasn’t questioned that we’ll spend time together in the future. To cover my surprise, I reach for the remote to turn the TV on and pick the first movie I see.
After it starts, I return my hand to Alex’s hair, petting him gently. He makes a content noise and snuggles against me, his eyes drifting shut.
Don’t get too attached to the guy, Calder warned me.
Too late.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Alex
As soon as my alarm goes off, I snatch up my phone and check the text messages. Nothing. Just in case, I also check school closing notices—double nothing—and my email—triple nothing. Dammit, that means I have to go to work.
Groaning, I drop my phone on the pillow beside me and roll my head to the side. The bed is empty. Of course it is, because I went to bed alone last night.
After dinner, I’d curled up in Euan’s lap like a needy little cat. I meant to initiate another round of experimenting—or at least a little bit of making-out—but at some point I actually fell asleep. By the time I woke up, we weren’t even watching the same movie anymore.
Euan had practically carried me back to my bedroom and then he just … left me here. Returned to his own room to sleep alone. At the time, I was too tired and groggy to ask, but now I can’t help but wonder: did he not want to share a bed with me because I accidentally hit him when I woke up yesterday, or because sleeping next to each other is outside the bounds of our relationship?
The night before might have been an exception. The power was out. The storm was still active. We’d fooled around in the shower. Sleeping together could have just been part of aftercare, like when we snuggled on the couch yesterday morning.
It wasn’t aftercare when you cuddled with him last night.I grab the other pillow and cover my face with it, as if to smother the confusing thoughts. A lingering scent of sweet peaches clings to the pillowcase and I freeze, holding my breath.
Fuck, this was Theresa’s pillow.
I mean, it’s my pillow, but it was the one she always slept on. It still smells like her because it hasn’t even been two weeks since she last slept here. Because it’s only been a week since we broke up.
Somehow, I keep forgetting that, as if she wasn’t a big part of my life for a year and a half. Maybe it’s just because Euan is living here, but he seems so much more … filling. Like he’s crawled inside my head, made himself at home. Pushed other things aside to make room for himself.
Knock knock.“Alex? I heard your alarm go off.”
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I reply, the sound muffled by the pillow.
By the time I’m showered and dressed, breakfast is already on the table. I pause and look it over, noticing that he made chocolate chip pancakes. Since I don’t own any box mix, he must have made them from scratch. “Are you trying to spoil me or one-up me?” I ask, taking my seat.
Euan chuckles as he sips his coffee and doesn’t answer my question. He eyes me up and down, gaze lingering on the button-up shirt. “So, you have work today.” It’s a neutral statement. I can’t tell whether or not he’s disappointed.
“Yeah, seems like the power is back on.”
He nods and focuses on his breakfast without other comment.
Once we finish eating, I clean up the table and Euan grabs his laptop. We head for the door at the same time, getting ready in silence. Half my mind is already focused on my to-do list for the day, both to catch up after yesterday’s unexpected day off and to prepare for my afternoon off tomorrow. Only working one-and-a-half days this week has really thrown off my schedule. “Okay, I’ll see you after work,” I say, leaning up to kiss Euan’s cheek.
We both freeze. It was an automatic motion, leftover from a long-term relationship filled with casual gestures of affection. The beard tickling my face is definitely new and different though. Settling back on my feet, I clear my throat awkwardly. “Sorry, I—”
Euan’s large hands grab my face, holding me in place as his mouth descends on mine. It’s not a quick, casual kiss. His tongue parts my lips and dives inside, devouring me like he’s eating Second Breakfast. I grab onto his shirt, twisting the fabric in my hands. It doesn’t even cross my mind to push him away—if anything, I’m pulling him closer, sucking on the tongue invading my mouth.
I don’t know how long passes before he pulls away and whispers in my ear, breath hot against my cheek, “See you tonight.”
He leaves first, and I just stand there in my open doorway, dazed and wanting.
I end up being very late for work.
