Rhinos, elephants, and any other large, stampeding-type mammals had obviously invaded Grace’s bedroom last night and jumped all over her head. How else could she explain the horrific pain that wrapped her entire skull and the grotesque throbbing going on behind her eyelids? Seriously. Her eyes had a damned pulse.
She cracked one open, immediately hating the glorious sunshine that pierced her pupils. Christ Almighty, it had been a very long time since she’d drunk so much. Truth be told it had been a very long time since she’d been relaxed enough to enjoy herself to such a degree. And enjoy herself she had. She moved sluggishly, lifting her head gingerly from the pillow, realizing quickly that she was wearing only her underwear and that she was alone in the bed. And no wonder, the smell of stale alcohol and vomit lingered around the room.
Oh, Lord, the fool she had made of herself last night! Flashes of Max’s magnificent chest and the feel of his luscious mouth against her raced through her mind, sending her into another merry-go-round of dizziness. She’d been so sure with all those cocktails still swilling around inside her that seducing Max was, at the time, the most epic of ideas. Puking mid-foreplay, however, had not been part of her audacious plan.
“Nicely played, Grace,” she muttered to herself, lifting the covers and dropping her legs off the side of the bed. Dammit, he’d even held her hair back while she puked. Her face heated with embarrassment. Exhaling despondently, she noticed a glass of water on the side table, and next to it two pills that looked suspiciously like Tylenol. Grace’s chest fluttered. Max was always considerate, but it never failed to make her all warm and fuzzy inside.
She knocked them back before staggering to the bathroom and the shower, hoping to God that the warm water would help wash away the shame of the previous night.
By the time Grace had washed and dressed herself in shorts and a vest top, everyone was either by the lake sunning themselves, swimming, or, like Ruby and Josh, playing tennis. Ruby didn’t even look like she’d seen an alcoholic drink, let alone matched Grace cocktail for cocktail all night. Damn her. Max was nowhere in sight. She exhaled a breath of relief, not quite ready to face him.
Aunt Fern, Carla, and Adele looked over from their loungers as she approached, smiling gamely.
“You’re up!” Adele said with a grin.
“Hey! Hey! Dancing girl’s here!” Buck called from the water, where he stood with Caleb, who smiled widely at her. Grace waved in humiliation. “Let’s start this party!” Buck added.
Carla glanced at her watch. It was past noon. “I knew all that dancing would tire you out.”
“Yeah,” Grace answered, vaguely remembering that she and Carla had become super best friends over the course of the night, conveying each other’s awesomeness as more and more drinks were consumed. Apparently, she wasn’t quite the bitch Grace had originally considered her to be. “I think the alcohol helped, too.”
All three women laughed before Adele offered a lounger, which Grace took gratefully.
“We’ve all eaten. Can I fix you something, honey?” Aunt Fern asked.
Grace’s stomach rolled at the mere thought. “No. Thank you.” She held up her bottle of water. “I’m good.”
Lying down helped. Grace sat back and closed her eyes behind her shades, enjoying the warmth and the sounds of splashing water and laughter. Despite her heinous hangover, she allowed the calm and contentment that encircled her to soak in. It was as close to peace as Grace had felt in a long time, surrounded by good people— friends—who accepted her without question.
A low, appreciative whistle conjured Grace’s eyes open. “Goddamn, girl, I’d give my high teeth for a piece of that ass.” Adele looked over at her. “Please, tell me you’re hitting the shit out of that.”
Grace followed Adele’s admiring gaze to see Max and his uncle running up the shore toward them. Max was shirtless and had clearly worked up a sweat. It glistened and enhanced the grooves of his chest and stomach. His whole body tensed and flexed as he moved, muscles working hard, his cheeks blowing in and out, as he concentrated on each stride. He sure was a vision.
A deep warmth settled in Grace’s stomach and between her legs. Dammit, who was she kidding? Adele was right; she should be hitting the shit out of that. She managed to school her features just as he slowed to a walk and approached her, sly smile in place, looking far too delicious with his chest heaving and black hair wet and clinging to his forehead. He ran a hand through it, making it stand in all different directions, and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler.
“Well, good afternoon, Starshine,” he said before he gulped at his drink. He swallowed and held the bottle to his cheek. “How’s the head?”
She grimaced. “Fuzzy.”