“Morgan? Why are you crying?”
“You’re not attracted to me.”
Staring at her like she was nuts, I watched her pull her covers over her head. I sat on the bed and pulled them back down.
“Why would you say that?”
Morgan tossed her hands up in the air and then let them fall to the bed. “You said you didn’t want me.”
I laughed. “No, I never once said that. I said we weren’t having sex, and I . . .”
She raised a brow and gave me a hopeful look. Then she ran her tongue over her lips, and I nearly died on the spot.
“Let me go get you some water.”
She smiled. “Yum.”
Covering her back up, I made my way to the kitchen and got a glass of water. Then I found some Advil in her bathroom and poured out three, then I grabbed the small trash can from under the sink in case she needed to get sick. When I walked back into her bedroom, Morgan was snoring. Loudly.
Thank God.
I set the water on the side table along with the Advil. Glancing down, I couldn’t help but smile. Even drunk and snoring, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on.
Leaning down, I went to kiss her forehead and stopped myself. My eyes moved to her soft lips, and I ached to kiss her. I pulled back. With a whisper, I said, “Sleep well, princess.”
Morgan smiled in her sleep and mumbled something. I headed to the office, grabbed some paper and a pen, and quickly wrote her a note.
Morgan,
I hope you took the Advil. Drink some orange juice mixed with the V8 you have in the refrigerator. Trust me on that one. Nasty as hell, but a miracle hangover cure.
Hope you wake up feeling all right. You were pretty toasted, princess.
I took your house key so I could lock your doors. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving them unlocked. Call me tomorrow and we can work out a time for me to swing by and give them to you.
Blake.
P.S. It impressed the Uber driver that you didn’t throw up, considering how drunk you were.
P.P.S. It’s Blake Greene, in case you know another Blake.
I let myself out and locked the door behind me.
As I waited for another Uber to come, I couldn’t help the way my mind kept flashing to Morgan looking up at me, silently pleading for me to kiss her. Damn, Morgan Barrett drunk out of her mind and wanting me to kiss her, touch her.
Fuck. I tried to ignore that familiar little ache in my chest. A part of me wanted to go back to Butch’s Place and finish what I had started. Another part wanted to go home and replay every touch and look from Morgan.
I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. I’d go home, drink myself to sleep, and forget about this night. Little did I know those blue eyes would haunt my dreams.
ROLLING OVER, I felt my head pounding behind my eyes. I attempted to open them without screaming out in pain from the headache that had already settled in.
Why do I do this to myself?
I drug in a deep breath and slowly opened one eye, then another. It was still dark in my room. My body relaxed instantly, and I let out the breath I had been holding in. I could hear the birds in my backyard singing, and it made me smile. I might have a massive hangover, but that sound calmed me instantly.
“At least I was smart and kept the curtains shut.”
With slow movements, I sat up. My eyes adjusted to the room before I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Catching a glance at the side table, I saw a glass of water and three Advils.