Page 8 of Sunflowers and Surrender
A mixture of a giggle and hiccup escapes, and I quickly reach for the trashcan.
“Are you going to be sick?”
“Nope,” she says, still squirming inside her top.
I place the trashcan down and head for the closet, where some of my T-shirts remain. Returning to Tuesday’s side, I sit her up so her back is to my chest and help to free her remaining arm. “Sunny, slide your bra straps down. I’m going to slide this shirt over your head, and we can get your bra off after you’re covered.” Hell. The mere notion of taking her bra off, covered or not, has gotten me to full mast.
“Okay.” Her minty breath dances over my face.
Once Tuesday is settled, I pull back the sheets and scoot her into bed. “You sure you don’t feel sick?”
“Nope.” Hiccup. As her breaths get heavier, I grow wary about leaving her. What if she throws up during the night? She’s barely taking up any space in this queen-sized bed, so I slide in before I can contemplate what I’m doing.
Chapter 7
Tuesday
My eyes blink open, the view between the narrow slits blurry and unfocused. I try to push through the fog to connect with my surroundings but wonder if I’m too distracted by the sandpaper currently residing where my tongue should be. Eventually, the haze clears, and I notice there’s an arm draped around me.
What the heck?
I immediately sort through the cloudy memories from last night. My lids spring wide, and I slowly trail my gaze from the muscular hand up the chorded forearm, up, up, up until I find the familiar sharp jawline of Alexander Bell. My body jolts within his arms, the slight movement causing me to shift against something very hard, poking into my back.
Holy hell.
My mind is reeling. What happened? My eyes snap shut, and I attempt to push further, chasing the images of the last thing I remember.
Those texts last night.
Alex was hot that I was dancing with Xane. But the time between then and now is a mystery. As much as I love the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms, I quickly twist in his solid embrace to get answers.
Did we? Holy crap, did we have sex, and I missed the whole thing?
I start to get teary-eyed about the situation when Alex awakens.
“Did we?”
He blinks momentarily as if trying to escape the same fog I just emerged from. His deep brown orbs become wide with alarm before he blurts, “Fuck no!”
As much as I’m relieved by this, his response has my tears about to tumble down my cheeks for a different reason. I can’t hide feeling offended by his defiant remark.
“Your brother would kill me.”
This follow-up is too little, too late. Alex Bell couldn’t make it any clearer that he has absolutely no interest in me. I’m so stupid. I’m sure there’s some logical reason for how we ended up here, me in his T-shirt and no bra, but I’m too hurt to care anymore. Maybe he was drunk and thought I was Ainsley. Whatever the reason, I definitely didn’t miss anything good.
I sit up, swiping at my eyes before Alex sees the effect he’s had on me. Why couldn’t I have laid there and pretended for a few more minutes before confronting him?
Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I grab my jeans and top and head for the bathroom. “Thanks for getting me to bed.”
Ugh, that didn’t come out right. Whatever.
Just get me out of here.
Chapter 8
Tuesday
“Happy birthday,” Grace squeals, holding at least a dozen multicolored mylar balloons in the storefront of Cygnature Blooms.
