15
CLAIRE
The aroma of coffee greets me when I wake. My head throbs, and I can think of nothing better than an oil-drum sized cup of coffee. Only, I live alone, and there’s no reason that smell should be wafting into my room.
Without opening my eyes, I feel around the bed I’m in, noticing these sheets feel nothing like mine.
A familiar scent lingers, and I realize I’m not at my place at all.
I pry open my eyes and take in my surroundings, confirming my suspicions.
Shit, shit, shit.
I sit up abruptly and the blanket falls down, revealing my barely clothed body.
Panic intensifies my already aching skull. “No, oh God, no.”
I spot my pants a few feet from the foot of the bed in a pile on the floor. I crane my neck to glance down the hall before committing to getting up. When I don’t see anyone, I jump out of Johnny’s bed, hugging the comforter around my chest and making a beeline toward my bottoms.
What was I thinking? What washethinking?
I’m stepping into them when the sound of footsteps approaches.
“Oh, crap,” his voice calls out. “Sorry.” He immediately covers his eyes.
Not exactly the reaction I’d expect after having slept with someone. I guess chivalry isn’t dead?
He holds a cup in my direction. “Here, uh, do you want this?”
“Where’s my shirt?”
Still concealed, he points behind him. “You dropped it in the hall.”
I rush around him and snatch it up, throwing it over my head and relaxing a tiny bit once I’m not almost naked.
“You decent?” He keeps his hand up to block his vision.
I fold my arms across myself. “Yeah.”
Johnny turns and extends the drink again. “Coffee?” He has total bedhead, and his face is still swollen from the other night.
There’s this strange urge to run my fingers through his hair, but I shove the desire away.
I glance from him to the cup, then back to him.
“I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He takes a sip and holds it out. “See.”
I guess I’m sort of in shock. Johnny and I have been in this cat and mouse game of avoiding each other, so to have him so matter-of-factly offering me a drink is mind-blowing.
And honestly, this is the longest conversation we’ve had while both of us were conscious.
“Claire.”
The way he says my name makes my heart skip a beat.
“Um, thanks.” I take the mug from him, our hands grazing in the process. I ignore the things that stir in my chest. “Do you know where my phone is?”
“Best guess, it’s somewhere in here.” He pulls back the blanket, exposing the corner of my cell case. He grabs hold of it and gives it to me.