JESSA
When I wake up the next morning, Anton is gone.
But I can see the faint indent of his body. It’s still warm to the touch, proof that he slept by my side the whole night.
Pathetically, I run my hand over the disappearing lines, wondering why I feel this sense of longing. I pry myself out of bed and slink into his bathroom to wash up.
The shower is the size of my entire bathroom back in the apartment. There’s still water on the tile floor, so I know he’s showered already. I rinse and then exchange his sweats for the same clothes I had on yesterday. They’re a little worse for the wear, but beggars can’t be choosers. I spritz myself with cologne from the countertop and hope it will cover the sick stench that clings to my shirt.
I head downstairs to the kitchen, hoping to draw no attention. But before I get there, I’m accosted by Lev.
“Morning,” he says. “Feeling any better?”
I feel mostly fine, even though the queasiness still hasn’t quite left me. “Yeah, more or less. I was just on my way to the kitchen.”
“No need. Anton’s waiting for you in the driveway.”
“Who is doing what in the where?”
“He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
I throw him an annoyed glance. “Well, I didn’t know he was waiting.”
“Well, now, you do. Better hurry.”
I roll my eyes and make for the driveway. Sure enough, I find Anton sitting in the same red Ferrari he drove me home in, tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “I was just on my way to the kitchen to get breakfast ready.”
“I’m not going to be here for breakfast.”
My heart sinks a little. “Oh… okay. I’ll just—”
“Neither are you,” he adds. “We’re going out.”
“We are?”
He nods. “Get in.”
I hesitate only for a second before I get into the front seat. He hands me a glass bottle filled with lemonade. “Drink that.”
I take a small sip. “Anton, where are we going?”
“You need clothes, don’t you?” he says. “And no offense, but the ones you’ve got on aren’t exactly fit for polite company. Not really fit for dogs, either, if I’m being honest.”
“Okay, offense taken.” I squirm uncomfortably in my seat. “We wouldn’t have this problem if you’d just let me go home last night.”
“You’d have puked the whole way there.”
“I would have held it in. Or, you know, barf-bagged it or whatever.”
He snorts. “Brilliant plan.”
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He spent the entire evening yesterday taking care of me. Now, he’s taking me shopping?
This feels like an alternate reality. A reality in which a normal weekday involves me driving around on a shopping spree with the most beautiful man on the planet in the most obnoxiously sexy car.
But that’s the thing—it doesn’t feel like an obnoxious car when Anton is behind the wheel. It just feels right.