Page 42 of Sass

Jesus fucking Christ.

It was the first time she’d spoken to me in years, and I’d been an idiot to think it would go any different. What followed was a fair amount of yelling on my part, followed by me hanging up and throwing my phone against the wall—always a smart move—and then heading out to buy a new one. At some point on the way back, I decided that what Ireallyneeded to make the afternoon infinitely better were a couple of bottles of my favourite bubbly. Excellent decision, right?

The flashes of memory got a lot patchier after that, which was likely a plus for all concerned, but the amount of burnt sienna all over my hands was less than reassuring. Surely, I hadn’t kept painting? And, oh fuck, there was something about that whole idea that didn’t sit right.

I winced as the toilet flushed for the third time, quickly followed by the sound of the shower running, and I pictured Leon rinsing the offending bin. Why, oh why did he have to find me like that? I was never gonna live it down. I needed to get dressed and get the hell out of there.

I swung my feet to the floor and tried to stand. Pain exploded in my skull and froze me in place, not quite upright. Hardly the encouraging start I’d hoped for.

“Don’t even think about it.” Leon returned from the bathroom with a damp washcloth and towel in hand. “Here.” He held them out for me.

I eased back down and took the cloth, its cool touch instantly soothing to my face. “What time is it?” I croaked, barely recognising my voice.

“Just after eight. You need water, a jolt of caffeine, and something in your stomach to soak up all that shit.” Leon indicated the coffee mug on the table next to me. “Drink what you can, and I’ll get some toast cooking.”

I think I groaned but I couldn’t be sure because my ears felt like a family of fire ants had set up home. And what the fuck was up with that? “Stop being so nice,” I grumbled. “I can’t hate you for seeing me like this if you’re so damn nice.”

“It’s all part of my secret plan to make you like me.”

I snorted and reached for the coffee and ibuprofen. “Yeah, well, don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m not that easy.”

Leon gave me a slow once-over. “I’m well aware.”

We locked gazes and I had a sudden flashback to the night before—something to do with a blanket and some very drunk flirting.Oh, Jesus fuck.

My few sips of coffee lurched ominously in my belly as I put the cup carefully back on the table and got to my feet. The fact I was apparently still butt naked registered too late—way too late—when a draught of cool air licked at my balls.

“Um, Leon?”

“Yes, Chris.” The man’s tone was solemn, but when I looked up, I caught him fighting a smile while studiously focussing on the toaster.Fucker.

“Where are my clothes and why aren’t I wearing them?” I grabbed one of the blankets to cover my junk.

“The answer to the first is, on the chair. The answer to the second is that you had yourself undressed before I could stop you. In case you’ve forgotten, you’d poured half a bottle of Deutz on your jeans and your shirt had an intriguing graphic print design in a colour which I do believe is burnt sienna.”

“Oh god,” I groaned, as more images of painting and singing popped into my head. “How bad is it down there?”

Leon laughed. “Nothing that a thorough sanding won’t fix. And do feel free to dress.” He waved to the chair where a pile of freshly laundered clothing sat waiting.

I blinked. “You washed my clothes?”

He shrugged. “I was doing a load and it only made sense to add yours. There’s a clean shirt of mine on top that you can borrow. I think the old one is toast.”

I stared at the clothes, glanced back at Leon, and frowned. “So, um, did... did we...?” I flicked a hand between us, ignoring the dread rising in my chest. I might want the guy like crazy, but not that way, and certainly not if I couldn’t remember a single thing about it.

Leon’s smile dissolved in an instant and he looked... disappointed. “What the fuck? Do you really think I’d take advantage of you?” He huffed and turned his back to open the fridge.

Shit.“No. I’m sorry. I just... I don’t...” I shook my head, heat rising in my cheeks. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

Leon turned back to face me, all trace of disappointment gone. “No. It’s me who should be sorry. Like you reminded me yesterday, we hardly know each other.” He waved me to the bathroom. “Go take a shower. I found a new toothbrush, which I left on the vanity for you. I’ll take the first round of toast.”

I ran my tongue around my sewer of a mouth and decided his suggestion was best for all concerned. Still, I raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you saying I stink?”

He looked up from where he was buttering his toast and grinned. “Like a fucking dumpster.”

I snorted and shook my head. “You sweet talker, you.” I hauled the blanket around my shoulders, grabbed the pile of clean clothes, and headed for the bathroom. “Feel free to join me,” I offered without turning my head. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

Knowing there was precisely zero chance of that happening, I dropped the smile and the clothes the minute I closed the door and lurched to the toilet to empty whatever was still lurking in my stomach. Which wasn’t much, as it turned out. Fucking champagne. I may as well have pulled the pin on the hangover grenade before I even took the first sip.

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