Julie’s eyes flitted about the room as a breeze rattled the window, not that she had been able to sleep much once she’d awakened in the strange bed. She lay there on the edge of the right side of the bed watching Nico sleep, wondering about the final events of the night—how she’d ended up in his bed, wearing his shirt.
With the slivers of light from the blinds, she studied him in the darkness until daylight danced on his cheekbones. The way his lashes rested on his face and his hair sort of splayed on the pillows in bunches of small springs, he could’ve been Julie’s personal Calvin Klein ad. A beautiful mouth-breather who gifted her with glimpses of his dimples between snoring riffs.
He looked peaceful, unlike Julie, who feared her slightest movement would rouse him. Everything was perfect with him asleep. Her fuck-ups were limited then. Or, at least he wouldn’t be conscious to witness yet another of the million and one she had in her arsenal.
She just had to raise the ante to five skulls, didn’t she?
A monster headache pounded at her temples, payback for being a showoff. Surely a harbinger of an oncoming hangover, she stifled a groan. This was exactly what she deserved for consuming anything—liquid or solid—with a name like Zombie.
She combed through the staggered images of the night before. Mostly alcohol and loud singing and…kissing.
That kiss.
A soft, tender kiss. The kind that grew slowly in intensity while invisible fireworks went off in the distance. Shallow breathing. Nothing but sugar-spiced goodness. That is, until the unthinkable.
Julie cringed at the memory and gagged as the instant replay reeled in the back of her mind. She had burped. And not like a small ladylike breath slipping between smiling lips. No, that would have been far too much to ask. So typical; if she was going to screw up, she did it royally, and put some extra stank on it. No dainty shielded hiccup. She had unleashed a hearty rancid belch that came from deep down.
And to make matters worse—though at the time she’d thought it impossible—she’d managed to outdo herself. Because breathing fire wasn’t bad enough, she had hurled on the man. Literally, upchucked on his Chucks.
On a mortification meter, she was off the charts. Julie grimaced at the thought of Nico waking up to endure any further antics from her. She scooted over the edge and slid out of the sheets onto the floor. Quietly, she tiptoed around his room, searching for her clothes and shoes.
Beneath the bed, she found her black pumps, wiped clean and neatly paired next to her purse and his slippers. And while her clothes were nowhere to be found, a whole closet full of his peeked out at her in the morning light. She glanced over her shoulder at Nico and slipped into another one of his shirts and a pair of his drawstring sweatpants, and rolled the waistband a third time to keep them from falling down.
She checked the clock on his nightstand. Six-thirty in the morning. Very ninja-secret agent like, she moved stealthily around corners, barefoot with her heels in hand. Based on self-preservation and what little she had left of her dignity, Julie should have snuck out and never looked back. But, at the sight of Nico, still lying peacefully asleep, she couldn’t bear it. He didn’t deserve it.
Her heart beat faster. She inched closer to the bed, careful not to wake him. Kissing her fingertips to her lips, Julie reached over Nico’s shoulder to lay them on his cheek, and stubbed her toe on a weight below his bed.
“Shit,” she whisper-yelled.
Julie cupped her hand over her mouth as tears stung at her eyes. She steadied herself on one leg and pulled her foot to her, and squeezed her throbbing pinky toe in her hand.
“Julie? You okay?” Nico asked, his voice groggy with sleep. He rolled over to face her, still halfway tangled in the sheets, and shirtless.
She bit her lip. Mostly because he was hot as all hell with a come-hither bedhead look set into the lines of his face. But, seeing as how she’d thrown up on the man and now ruined his sleep, she felt a little bit bad. “Damn it, I’m sorry. I was trying not to wake you, but I stubbed my toe on a weight.”
Nico sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. “Let me take a look at it.” He pulled Julie close to him and lifted her foot into his hand.
“I’m sorry. About everything. Really, I’m just going to go.” She tried to loosen her foot from his grip.
Still holding her foot, Nico’s eyes reached hers. “Would you stop apologizing? There’s nothing to be sorry about. Why don’t you just sit down for a second?”
Even though there were no traces of irritation in his voice, Julie still felt bad. There was only so much that a guy could take from a girl before he deemed her a lost cause. “I need to go. I don’t know what it is about you, but every time I’m near you, I can’t seem to act like a normal, functional person. Between my gag reflex and my motor skills, I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.”
“This is going to be fine.” He rubbed her toe and gave it a firm press before releasing it.
As she flopped down on the bed beside Nico, he wrapped a hand around her waist and gave her a tender squeeze. She rested her head on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry.” Before he could stop her, she explained, “I felt like I needed to say it at least one more time after all I’ve put you through.”
After a few minutes, Nico turned to Julie, taking her in for the first time in the daylight. “This outfit looks good on you,” he mused.
Even though she could hear his facetious tone, the way he stared at her was unmistakably appraising. “Just my size. You know, it’s all about the fit.” Fully equipped with her self-defense mechanisms and self-deprecation to keep her safe, she stood up and gave him a twirl before landing directly in front of him still seated on the bed.
Now, he stood and closed the distance between them, towering over a barefoot Julie. “I would kiss you right now…but, unfortunately, I know where your mouth has been.” A wide smile settled across his face as he took her in his arms and pressed his lips to her forehead.
The man had a way with words, for sure, but he was right. She didn’t want to kiss herself at that point. The vomit was one thing. But vomit and no toothbrush? She wouldn’t let him kiss her…yet.
Julie tried to wriggle out of his embrace, but his fingers latched onto hers. She lifted her gaze to Nico in question, but he said nothing. Without releasing her hand, he slowly led her into his bathroom, shut the door, and locked it.