Page 54 of Alive and Wells

“I have a present.” She holds her closed fist out with a sleepy smile on her face, so I reflexively reach my open palm toward her. A small, balled-up pair of lacy underwear falls from Cecily’s hand into mine, and she lets out a soft giggle.

Jesus bloody Christ in hell.I wish I had gotten drunk tonight, too. Then we could make bad decisions together.

“Fuck, woman. You’re really trying to make me do something terrible tonight, aren’t you?” With all the blood rushing to my cock, it’s a small miracle I’m capable of making any smart decisions right now. “As beautiful as you are, and as badly as I want to make love to you from now until the sun comes up, the most I can offer is cuddles.”

She groans in annoyance.

I kiss her head, her hair tickling my nose. “Can you stay awake for a minute? I’ll be right back with some water and ibuprofen.”

Of course, she can’t. A minute later, she’s sleeping peacefully, curled on her side, with her hands tucked under her cheek. Despite the soothing sound of her deep, slow breaths, and the warmth of her body in my bed, I can’t fall asleep. I can’t fall asleep because it dawns on me as I lie here, staring at her, just how deep I am in this. A familiar emotion I promised myself I wouldn’t feel sits there, right on the tip of my tongue, waiting for me to come out and admit it. Apparently, it doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself this isn’t going to work—she’ll be gone as soon as she doesn’t feel like she needs to stay here. When I hold her and kiss her, none of my fear matters. Nothing fucking matters.

Deep in a dream, Cecily mumbles something I can’t quite make out. Her ass wiggles closer to me, and she murmurs my name into the pillow.She’s dreaming about me.My eyes grow wide in the pitch black room, and my thundering heartbeat fills the silence. I look over at her long eyelashes splayed above her cheekbones, the soft part of her cheek that dimples when she smiles, and the small freckle just above her brow.

Fuck.

I think I’m in love with her.

22

Cecily

“Idon’twanttoknow about the potentially embarrassing shit I said or did last night.” I clutch my coffee mug like it’s the only thing keeping me alive. The lights are too bright, and even the coffee machine is too loud. If there’s a pro to platonically sleeping with the boss, it’s being off the hook for work today.

“Might want to delete your text messages then, darlin’. And drink some water.” He kisses the top of my head. “If you need me, I’ll be in my office. Okay?”

“I’ll be here dying and, assuming a time comes where I’m able to move from this couch, I’ll go see Beryl.”

“Please try not to die.” He calls on his way out the door.

After another thirty minutes nursing my coffee, regretting the tequila shots, and suffering from a slow return of half-memories from last night, I drag my sorry ass off the couch. By the time I start the shower, I’m already feeling significantly better—thanks to the ibuprofen, two giant glasses of cold water, and three rounds with my toothbrush. I grab my phone from the nightstand, needing a pump-up playlist to get me hyped enough to leave the house, when Austin’s voice telling me to delete my texts inspires me to open up my chat history.

Shit.I cringe as I read everything I sent him. There’s a vague recollection of coming onto him last night, butthisis next level.

Although… he seemed into it.

I must still be drunk because, rather than hitting delete, I find myself carrying on last night’s conversation.How long does tequila stay in your system?

Cecily:Want to help me now?

Turning up the ringer, I step into the shower and run the cool water through my hair. The sensation on my scalp kills off the last of my lingering headache, and I barely hear my phone ping over the stream rushing past my ears. I reach out from behind the shower curtain, dry my hand on the towel, and pick up the phone.

Austin:With what? Are you okay?

I’m definitely still drunk. Have to be. Sober, sane Cecily would never have the balls to send him a photo of the handheld shower head in my hand. But I do.

Cecily:Think I should use this or do you want to help instead?

If anybody says country boys are dumb, I’ll present them with Austin Wells. Because he catches on and replies within thirty seconds.

Austin:YES, I want to help

Austin:I swear to God, you better not be joking. Give me five min. I have to get rid of Beryl.

I don’t answer him. Instead, relishing the way his typing bubbles appear and disappear four times over the next two minutes.

Austin:Please tell me if this is serious

Cecily:Are you really going to risk not finding out for yourself?

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