Page 3 of Everything I Crave

Chapter Two

Willow

My eyelids peel open and feel like there’s sandpaper stuck in them, my mouth feels like the Sahara Desert, and the sun is causing the knife in my head to slice through the front of my brain.

I slowly sit up and look around.This is not my room.

Instant panic takes over.

I swivel my head to the left to take in my surroundings, a pile of my clothes all over the floor, along with a man’s clothes.Shit, what did I do?

That thought is only pushed out by the throbbing pain in my brain. I dig the palms of my hands into my eyes, hoping to push the throbbing away. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work.

I hear clanging in the kitchen, and suddenly I’m assaulted with brief and broken memories of my night.

Gunnar. His bed. Me in the kitchen, naked.

I jump out of bed, again regretting my decision to move. On top of the throbbing head, now my stomach is turning at the movement from my body.I tug on the first pair of sweatpants I find and head out into the kitchen. Furious at Gunnar, for letting us do something I was definitely not in my right mind to make a decision on.

“Good morning, darling,” he drawls, pouring a second mug of coffee.

“Good morning? Really? That’s all you have to say to me?” I yell.

“I mean, what do you want me to say?” He extends the mug of coffee in my direction, pushing the sugar and cream with it. “I wasn’t sure how you take your coffee.”

I scoff. “Isn’t that something you’d think you should find out before fucking someone?” I narrow my eyes at him, but the draw of the coffee is too strong. I add some cream and take a tentative sip.

He has the audacity to fucking laugh, “Trust me, darling. If I fucked you, you’d remember every damn second.”

I look at him confused. “But our clothes- they’re all over your floor.” I stand there, trying to piece the events of last night together.

“Yea, you decided to do some version of a drunk strip tease and I promptly put you in a tee and tucked you in. Again, if I fucked you, you’d remember it.” He turns back to the counter, stirring what I think are eggs in a pan.

“You’re a cocky asshole, you know that?” I spit out at him.

“Been told that a time or two before.” He never even looks back at me, “How do you like your eggs?

“At home.” I shove back from the island in his kitchen, a kitchen that I actually can see him living in alone. At least it doesn’t appear that he has a woman in his life. I don’t need that drama to unfold this morning.

I stalk back to the bedroom to gather my dress and shoes and when I walk back out into the open area of the kitchen, living room, and dining room, Gunnar is leaning his hip on the counter, shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth.

I glance at him, mad at my traitorous body for reacting to the bare abs, and low hung sweatpants that are tight enough they don’t leave much to my imagination.

I open the door and walk out without another word.

“You’re welcome!” he calls out the door after me, laughing.

His parting words make my blood boil. For what reason, I can’t tell. It would appear he rejected me in my drunken state, and then put me to bed. It’s not like I set out last night for a wedding hookup, I set out to numb the pain. So why does that piss me off so much?

The walk back to my mom’s house does nothing to calm me down. The embarrassment of how I acted last night is flaring up my body, heating my skin, and making the anger worse. Only this time the anger is directed at myself. Add in the barrage of texts from Mom asking where I am and I can’t stand myself that I disappointed her. Again.

Luckily, or hopefully, no one knows about Gunnar finding me and taking me home, and he’ll keep his mouth shut.

I open the door and push my way through, hoping like hell I’ll find a blissfully quiet kitchen.

Luck, however, is not on my side today. I walk in to find Mom and Scott sitting at the kitchen table enjoying their morning coffee.

“Willow. You’re finally home,” mom says through pursed lips, redness creeps up her cheeks and she uses my name, a telltale sign she’s pissed at us girls. She doesn’t even get up from her spot. Usually we get our nicknames and a hug.

---