Page 45 of Easton

I smack his chest. “Aww, you’re no fun.”

Leaning my head back against him, mostly because I’m feeling dizzy now, I sigh.

Luckily, we make it to my room quickly.

Easton lays me down on my big bed, and I roll onto my side, where I wiggle up to my pillows.

But then I realize I still have on my dress.

“Can you help me out of this thing?” I ask as I sit up and start lifting the sequin hem.

“Claire, Claire, wait, hold up.” Sounding panicked, Easton grabs my hand. “I really can’t help you with this. Just stop for a minute. I’ll grab you a T-shirt, and then I’ll turn around while you change. I’m sure you can do it on your own.”

I relent, directing him to where I keep my sleep tees in a drawer in my dresser.

After rummaging around in the drawer, he hands me a long light pink T-shirt with a V-neck and asks, “Is this one okay?”

“Perfect,” I mumble.

He turns around, and I slip off my dress, tossing it on to the floor. I also ditch my bra, but I leave on my panties.

Tugging the tee down to where it falls about midthigh, then flopping onto my back because I have no more left in me to remain sitting, I say, “I’m decent. You can turn around now.”

He does.

Quietly, he picks up my dress and bra. After placing them on a chair by the closet, he sits down on the edge of the bed.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“Dizzy and headache-y.” I close my eyes. “Ugh, why did I drink so much wine?”

Easton doesn’t tell me, “I told you so,” which he has every right to do.

He just remarks softly, “You were just letting loose and having a good time. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“You tried to warn me with that look you gave me,” I groan. “I should have listened.”

Chuckling, he says, “You’ll be fine. You need to just sleep it off.”

“Still…” I roll onto my side, holding my head. “I’m never drinking wine ever again. It’s not worth it.”

“Do you want some aspirin?” he asks.

“Yes, please.”

Easton heads into the en suite bathroom and returns with two aspirin and a tall glass of water.

He helps me sit up, and I swallow the pills and chase them down with a big gulp.

One brow raised, he asks, “Better?”

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and give him the glass. “Uh-huh.”

“I’ll leave the water here close to you,” he says as he places it on the nightstand. “In case you get thirsty during the night.”

I’m in the process of maneuvering to slip under the covers, so I mumble, “Thanks.”

As I settle in, I can tell Easton is getting ready to leave.

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