Well…sort of. Based on my thoughts and feelings right up until the moment I sent Allison home without me, part of me was probably always angling for sex and judging the right moment to go for it.
“Even better!” Hazel crows. “Wow, you really don’t do things by halves, do you?”
“Maybe,” I say, clearing my throat. “Pancakes?”
“Yes, please,” Hazel replies with feeling.
She heads to my pantry cupboard and rummages around for a moment before emerging with the maple syrup, smiling triumphantly. I can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm; Hazel is always so cheerful that it’s hard to be upset around her.
“So?” Hazel says, taking a seat at the table, watching me as I heat up a pan and allow some butter to melt in it.
“So what?” I ask blankly.
“What was he like?” Hazel asks eagerly.
I think back. Handsome, wonderful, electrifying…
“Quiet,” I say, landing on something safe to say. “He wasn’t very talkative.”
Hazel snorts. “I hope that didn’t make anything too awkward.”
Not at all. If anything, it felt like there was so much going on that there was no room for any awkwardness. Which is hilarious, because I know we both felt the tension right before I kissed him as fiercely as I could.
“No,” I say, pouring some batter in the pan. “Thank you for staying last night, too. I’m sorry about that; I think I lost my head for a bit.
“It’s no problem,” Hazel says immediately. “Owen was in bed, so it didn’t affect anything. I told Jack I was staying the night and he was cool with it. He wanted to bring me some clothes, but I didn’t want him just coming to your house without permission.” It takes me a moment to remember that Jack is her boyfriend. “Though, uh…” She shifts uncomfortably. “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed some clothes.”
“It’s fine,” I assure her. “I’m glad you found some. In future, I’ll just tell you ahead of time if I need you to stay overnight.”
“Or I’ll just leave a bag in my car from now on,” Hazel grins. “I actually used to do that, but for a way worse reason; this kid was in the foster system, and she hated her family, said they weren’t very nice to her. So I’d spend way more time than I should have with this kid, until I used to always carry a bag to be ready to have a sleepover with her.”
“What happened to her?” I ask.
“The foster parents got pulled up on child abuse,” Hazel says flatly. “She got moved on. I did look her up six months later; she’s in Miami, now, and she seems a lot happier with her new family. She sent me a Christmas card last year.”
“That’s sweet,” I say with a smile.
“Yeah,” Hazel says with a nod. “Anyway, are you going to give me anything real about your new boyfriend?”
“He isn’t my boyfriend,” I protest immediately. “It was just a one-night-stand, that’s all.”
“Sure,” Hazel says, sounding skeptical. “Whatever you say.”
I shoot her a glare. She grins at me, unrepentant.
“Just saying, you wouldn’t be so cagey about it if it didn’t matter,” she says flippantly.
I glare at her. I know she’s right. But I don’t have the energy to argue this point right now or to think how true it really is. It’s too early on a Saturday morning to go through my sordid history with Grant.
Perhaps Hazel sees something of my thoughts on my face, though, because her smile finally drops.
“Sorry,” she offers, and I look up at her in surprise. “I shouldn’t push, that isn’t fair. Are you okay? You don’t look very well.”
“I’m not sick,” I say to her with a small smile. “Just…a little angry with myself. I don’t really want to talk about it, but, I did something pretty stupid last night, and I’m kicking myself for it.”
I can see that Hazel wants to ask. But she reins herself in admirably and swallows any questions she has before hitching a smile on her face.
“Any pancakes ready yet?” she asks.