The Fling (18+)

Chapter 11

"Huh?"

A faint smile ghosted over her lips, "Look, if your father wants to take issue with your drinking habits, then that's his prerogative. As far as I'm concerned, you're a grown-ass person - your choices are none of my business."

Shame at my unwarranted accusation filled me, and I sighed. "Oh, well, sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Glancing aside at me, she was silent for a moment before asking, "So, are you okay?"

Meeting my own gaze in the mirror, I shook my head, "No, not really."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Groaning, I took another couple of mints before sliding the tin back over to her. "No, I really don't."

Her voice was soft as she replied, "Okay."

"It-" I sighed, "It's nothing personal. I just desperately want tonight to be over."

Jessica chuckled. "Same. Unfortunately, I doubt that your dad will be finished before midnight."

Pressing my lips together, I asked, "Do you think I could get David to drive me home early?"

"Probably." Placing the mints and lipstick back in her purse, she smirked, "I'd ask you to take me with you, but I've got wifely duties to take care of."

I grimaced, "Ew."

Jessica rolled her eyes, "You know what I mean."

"I guess." Placing the mints on my tongue, I chewed them roughly before asking, "Could you tell them that I'm just incredibly jet-lagged and I needed to go home and sleep?"

There was a subtle change in her expression as she said, "You got it." I couldn't put my finger on what it was, though.

As she left, I pulled out my phone, texting David's number. He replied back almost instantly, and I muttered a prayer of thanks that my queasy ass would soon be in bed asleep.

It wasn't until I left the bathroom that I realized-

-I said "them"...

A relentless agony pounded in my head as I lay under the covers, half conscious and wishing for death. Opening my eyes into slits, I noted the golden light of mid-morning and blistered the paint of my bedroom with a violent string of curses.

It's not going to get any better if you just wait here...

Hating the world, I sat up, feeling the raging fury of my hangover hit me full force.

Dazed, I waited for a moment before standing and walking to the bathroom. A quick hunt through my toiletries yielded my painkillers, but as I shook two out onto my palm, I realized-

-I need water.

Grimacing, I set the bottle down and stumbled toward the door, headed for the kitchen.

Downstairs, sunlight poured through the wide, sprawling windows, and I held my hand up, a vain attempt at shielding myself from the brightness.

Finally reaching the kitchen, I hunted through the cabinets, looking for a glass.

"Third one on the left."

A deep, maddeningly resonant voice spoke behind me, and dread washed across my skin as I turned around.

Adam sat at the table, looking far better than a man in khakis and a polo shirt had any right to.

"...the hell?" I croaked.

"Your father invited me out for an early round of golf before the picnic," he explained, referring to the company-wide event that would be taking up most of my afternoon.

"Oh. Of course." I nodded, like that was a totally natural reason for my failed one-night stand to be in my dad's kitchen this early in the morning.

Turning, I went to the third cabinet on the left, opening the door almost hoping to find that he was mistaken.

He wasn't.

Dammit.

Picking up a squat tumbler, I walked over to the fridge, dispensing a stream of cold water.

"So," Adam asked, "how did you sleep?"

Alone.

Turning my head, I glared at him. "What?"

"That's why you left the party early, right? Jessica said you weren't feeling well."

Pulling the glass away, I walked over to the table and sat down opposite Adam. After glancing around to make sure we were alone, I said, "Look, can you not?"

He frowned, "'Not' what?"

I placed a pill on my tongue, swallowing it down with a drink of water. Repeating the action, I drained the glass and set it on the table.

"Can you not do this?" He looked confused, so I continued, "Like, pretending that this is normal - it's not. It's awkward as hell and trying to act like we're friendly acquaintances is just going to make it worse."

Adam leaned back in his chair, and his eyes smoldered as he asked, "Then how do you want us to interact?"

"Honestly?" I let my thumb trace through the condensation, "I don't think we should."

A ghost of a smirk formed on his lips, "And how do you suggest we do that? It's going to be very obvious if I start outright avoiding you."

Shrugging, I picked up my glass and stood, "I think it's worth the risk."

His gaze met mine, and I fought back an involuntary shiver. "You sure about that?"

It's safer than the alternative...

"Yeah," I answered, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Yeah, I am."

His eyes swept over me, leaving trails of fire in their wake. "Well then, if you're sure..."

Oh, God.

Setting my glass in the sink, I all but ran out of the room, fleeing back up to my sanctuary.

With the door shut securely behind me, I walked into the bathroom, heart racing as I headed for the shower, hoping to wash the aching need I felt out of my system.

As I passed the mirror though, I froze.

Turning, I eyed my reflection. Sleep-mussed hair crowned my head, highlighting the dark circles under my eyes and the way the sickly cast of my hangover clung to my skin.

Jesus. If this didn't kill his attraction to me, then nothing will...

I snorted, wishing that the thought amused me instead of filling me with despair.