“Ow. Even my hair hurts.”
“Serves you right, Martini queen.” He laughed.
“Shhh, not so loud. Maybe a whisper for today?” I rested my head on my hands and prayed for death.
“You hungry?” His words made my stomach turn. “Maybe you’d like a … green apple?”
“Are you trying to make me sick?” I mumbled against the wood table.
“Not really, but this is kinda fun. How about some coffee?” He stood and turned the coffee pot on.
“Yes, please.” I growled.
Brody didn’t talk through my whole first cup of coffee and half of my second. He told the girls Mommy had a headache and promised them that if they played quietly, he’d let them paint his fingernails later.
“Do you remember anything about last night?” he finally asked.
I thought hard, but nothing came back. “The last thing I really remember is walking my mom and Fred to the car. Where is Mom, anyway?”
“She said she had breakfast plans with a friend but didn’t want to go because of your … condition.” He chuckled. “I told her I’d watch the girls and take care of you.”
“You handled the girls all right,” I teased as I filled my coffee cup for the third time. I may not sleep for the next two days because of all the caffeine, but as long as the headache was gone, that was just fine by me.
“Last night was interesting.” Brody had a funny look on his face.
“Did I do anything stupid?”
“Nope, not at all.” He cocked an eyebrow at me. “But you’re one hell of a dancer.”
I groaned and dropped my head back onto my hands, harder than I intended to. “Ow. Did you put me in bed?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Did you change me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Did we…” My eyes darted over to make sure the girls couldn’t hear us.
He laughed. “No. I’m not exactly into necrophilia—you were passed out before the first stoplight. You did say one interesting thing though.”
“What was that?” I asked, without lifting my head to look at him.
“You said you loved me.”
I stopped breathing, as panic filled my chest and made my head pound harder. Slowly, I lifted my head and looked at Brody who was smiling contentedly, blowing on his own mug of coffee.
“I did?”
He nodded slowly, his eyes searching my face.
“Sorry about that.” I cringed.
He pulled his brows together and frowned at me. “Sorry? Why would you apologize?”
“I was drunk, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Do you love me?”
Oh God, oh God. I wanted to puke and it didn’t have anything to do with my hangover. My head hurt, and now my heart hurt. Looking at Brody’s soulful eyes, knowing he was waiting for an answer I couldn’t give him was hard. Too hard.
I did love him. I loved him so much I sometimes couldn’t breathe around him, but I couldn’t tell him that. I would never let those words leave my mouth; that would make all of this too real. It would give him all the power.
I wanted to get up and leave the room, but Alexa’s voice nagging me to ‘stop running’ kept ringing through my head. Her voice wasn’t the only one in my head. Blaire’s was there too, cackling and warning me that I was nothing but a summer fling. If he was just going to throw me away, there was no way I was going to tell him the truth.
“Kacie.” Brody’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
My eyes traveled around his face … the face of the man I loved, the face I had to lie to in order to protect myself.
I took a deep breath.
“No.”
“You have ten new voice messages. To play these-” I shut off my phone and tossed it, not giving a shit when it tumbled off the bed and hit the floor with a cracking sound. None of those messages were from Kacie and that pissed me off.
Lauren and Tommy’s wedding was two weeks ago, and Kacie and I hadn’t talked since the morning after when she told me she didn’t love me. Hell, I’d barely left my condo in that time. Gym and back. That’s about it. I talked to my mom every few days so that she didn’t call in a missing person’s report, but I still hadn’t told her about Kacie. I didn’t want to say it out loud; it just made me angry.
After she said ‘No,’ we sat at that kitchen table for a long time, not saying a word. She didn’t know what else to say and I only wanted to call her a liar. I’m one of those people who believe when we’re drunk, we say what we really mean. I think that liquid courage helps you get out what you really do want to say, when we don’t know how to just say it. There’s nothing I could do though, whether she loves me or she doesn’t, I had to take her for her word.
That left me here, wallowing in self-pity, dirty bed sheets and the Classic College Football Network for two weeks, not giving a shit about the world outside of my house. I reached over and opened the canister on my nightstand, pulled out another Slim Jim and shoved it in my mouth before throwing the wrapper on the floor.