Page 20 of The Lies I've Told
I felt heat pool between my thighs as I turned away. “I told you, I’m not this person. I don’t—”
“Fool around with random strangers. Yeah, you made yourself clear on that little matter. But that doesn’t change the fact that it happened or that, despite what you might or might not think, you really could use some help. The rest of those guests upstairs are stirring.”
I looked at the wide door that led to the foyer, trying to gain a peek at the stairs. Letting out a heavy sigh, I relented. “Okay, fine. Are you capable of making coffee?”
He grinned, moving toward the coffee pot. I took a deep inhale, hating how good he smelled as he brushed past me. “Just call me the coffee master,” he said.
“No,” I said adamantly.
“That’s not what you said last—”
My hands flew up in the air as I tried to keep from screaming at the top of my lungs. “Please, for the love of God, don’t finish that sentence.”
I watched as he finished scooping out the coffee and added the water.
Then, he turned around and leaned against the counter. “You really don’t remember anything?”
“Nothing.” I began stacking muffins in a basket.
He mimicked my motions, doing the same with the other pastries.
“But you don’t remember anything either, right?” I glanced over at him as his hand froze for a single, solitary moment.
“Nope.”
“Any of it?” I pressed.
“Only the little tidbit about the room; that’s all.”
“So, you don’t know if we—”
“We did,” he said with a note of finality in his tone.
“How do you know? We could have just made out. Or better yet, talked.”
A somewhat forced grin spread across his lips as he grabbed the baskets and ran them over to the table. Then, he turned back around. “There was a condom wrapper on the floor.”
“Oh,” I said, not sure what to say or do after that.
On one hand, I was glad we had taken precautions. But, on the other…
I looked up and down his body one more time, all those hard lines and toned muscles.
I would have really liked to remember a night with him even if it was wrong.
So wrong.
“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea,” I began as I pulled out several other things for breakfast, including eggs. Surely, I could make something with eggs.
He watched as I began cracking them, one by one, before letting out a huff of air and stepping up beside me one more time.
He took several of the eggs and simultaneously cracked them into the bowl. My eyes widened with shock.
“I can do a few things beyond using a chisel and a hammer,” he said, a grim line of determination sweeping across his beautiful face. “I’m not a chef by any means, but I am pretty good with eggs. Why don’t you go take a few minutes for yourself before the other guests arrive? I’ve got this.”
I pressed my lips together before I spoke, “Why are you being so nice to me? Especially after how I treated you this morning?” I asked.
He placed both hands on the counter, his upper arms flexing as he leaned against it. His face almost seemed lost for a second, like a ship gone astray. But, just as quickly as it had come, the moment vanished, and he was back at the helm, that same emotionless expression on his face. “Let’s just say, I know what it’s like to have a bad day.”
