I snort.
“What?” he asks. He rummages through the kitchen until he finds coffee and puts a pot on.
“This is how we met. I was on the kitchen island at your old house.”
He hands me a glass of water that I gulp down. A small smile curves those perfectly molded lips. “I remember.”
“Only, Pixel was trying to kill me.” I pout. “I miss her.”
“Me too. But she loves Chase, so you know she’s in good hands.”
I watch as Karl halfway unwraps a burger and hands it to me. “Eat.”
I shake my head. “I’m not hungry.”
“Eat anyway.”
After sticking my tongue out at him, I get a whiff of the burger and my stomach growls. “Maybe just a bite.”
I devour the burger, and when I’m done, he hands me the coffee.
“Drink.”
“You know, you’re very bossy tonight.” I press my thighs together at the mere thought of a bossy Karl.
“If it makes you feel better, I’m drinking the water and coffee too.”
I think back through the night. I realize he hasn’t had half as much to drink as I have. In fact, that is partially my fault. I was so nervous, whenever I finished my drink, I’d steal his and down it too. No wonder he’s the voice of reason now, I realize, as I start sobering up.
“Thanks for taking care of me,” I say.
He’s in front of me now, and I run my fingers through his long blond locks, like I’ve wanted to so many times. “Your hair is beautiful.”
“You’re still drunk,” he says, but the crooked smile has grown. “Come on.” He grabs me by the waist again and my feet find the ground. “Can you walk okay?”
I nod.
Unsure I can keep my balance in heels, he grabs my hand and leads me up the stairs.
Earlier, when Sofia and I were getting ready, we were in the master suite, so I never found out where my room was.
When Karl leads me to it and I peer inside, I squeal at the luxury, and the inviting perfect bed reminds me how tired I am and how much my feet hurt. I turn to thank him for helping me find my room, but he’s in here with me, and the door is shut behind him.
“Uh—Karl? What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re in my room.” I take off one of the uncomfortable high heels.
That hint of a smile appears on the corner of his mouth again. “Our room,” he corrects me.
When he says that, I trip and nearly fall as I try removing the second heel. He lunges for me and holds on to my elbow to steady me.
“What?”
“They think we’re together, remember? We can’t have separate rooms.”
I look over at the bed and gulp. “Where are you sleeping?”