Page 61 of Get Undressed With Me

And then, with horror, she remembered exactly how much she had told him while she was drunk. Last night, Brittany would’ve given anything for him to join her in that bed, and with a wince, she remembered pleading with him to touch her.

Of course he hadn’t. But she remembered his words, weaving together what he would do to her if the situation were different, if she wasn’t drunk and they were allowed to touch each other, and oh lord, she now had to spend all day with him at a convention pretending she didn’t know what he would do to her body if they both just gave in.

She steeled herself, standing with only a slight swaying of the entire room, and carefully made her way to the door, noting with chagrin that her ankle had a lot to say about how she had danced the night before. Brittany pushed into the bathroom, doing her business and then staring at her reflection in the mirror. She was practically green. Her makeup was a shallow approximation of what it had been the night before, the circles under her eyes showing exactly how little sleep she had gotten. She washed up, leaving her skin bare, and carefully stepped out of the bathroom toward the main area, ready to face whatever lecture Gus had prepared for her recklessness last night. She knew she deserved it.

Brittany stepped into the living room, her eyes finding Gus in the open kitchen, working on breakfast. He looked up, immediately putting down what he was doing and coming to her, nothing but concern in his eyes.

“Hey, let’s get you to the couch.”

He helped her sit, only touching her as was necessary to steer her there, propping her foot up on a pillow. Satisfied, he leftand came back with more water, a sports drink that promised electrolytes, and a bottle of painkillers.

“I’m doing some plain toast and eggs right now. Coffee will be ready in a minute. Stay here.”

He went back to the kitchen to do whatever he was doing. So far, Gus was patient and kind and understanding and Brittany suddenly found she was very, very annoyed.

“Just say it.”

“Say what?”

“Whatever lecture you’ve had brewing in you since we got back. Lay it on me already. The suspense is killing me.”

“I haven’t been working on a lecture.”

She snorted. “Please. You probably have a list of grievances in the notes app on your phone.”

“I’ve never used my notes app in my life.”

“That’s weird and you know it.”

He just shook his head, focusing on his sizzling pan.

“You have nothing to say?”

“Not a thing.”

“Not even about Kyle?”

He paused at that, and Brittany felt a moment of victory as well as a moment of disgust with herself. Who was this person itching for a fight?

“If I had anything to say about last night,” he finally said carefully. “I would keep it to myself. It’s not my place to question your actions, or to lecture you on your behavior. I’m an employee, and you’re my client.”

Brittany hadn’t really been prepared for how much that hurt, even though she recognized the words. She felt the bitterness, the unfairness of it all rising inside her, and needed to unleash it somehow.

“So you don’t care if I spend the rest of the weekend fucking Kyle.”

Gus walked toward her, his eyes stormy, and she wondered if she had finally gotten to him, but all he did was hand her a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, and then placed her coffee on the table where she could reach it.

“Who you fuck isn’t my business, Brittany. You made that very clear last night.”

She stared down at the breakfast he had made her, after taking care of her the night before, after watching her act like an idiot on the dance floor, after the horrible fight they had had where he laid out what he wanted and she had been too scared to try.

“What if I want it to be your business?” She almost whispered it, so quiet it was possible he didn’t hear her. But the tension that filled the room, the electricity that felt like a current zapping through everything around her was palpable. She glanced at him, saw his eyes were dark with thought as he stared at her so intensely her hair stood on the back of her neck.

“What changed? Last night you didn’t want me near you. What’s suddenly different?”

Brittany didn’t know how to answer that. Because the truth was, she felt the loss of him when he left her in that photo booth, felt the deep regret and pain when he walked away that she didn’t think she could stand it. That emptiness was why she had thrown herself into the party, and why she had started on the drinks.

She looked away from him, not able to meet his eyes. But she told him the truth.

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