“You won’t,” I promised, and he nodded.
Somehow I’d passed Cassie’s twenty-one-year-old brother’s test. It wasn’t exactly the entrance exam to NASA, but right then, to me, it felt even better.
My eyes fluttered open as the Oregon sun filtered in through the windowpanes of my childhood bedroom. The warmth of a large body enveloping mine had me peeking out of one eye to survey my surroundings. Thatch was curled around me—one hand holding my boob, while his head used my chest as a pillow.
His handsome face looked so young, blissfully unaware and deep in sleep. His dark lashes rested softly against his cheeks as soft breaths puffed out from his lips. I ran my fingers through the messy strands of his jet-black hair as I tried to recount last night’s events.
One thing was certain; I had definitely danced and drunk my ass off. It had been an all-in kind of night, and I had forced Sean and Thatch to close the bar down with me, even demanding Taco Bell on the drive home. Good thinking, Cassie. That fast food had probably saved me from a morning of praying to the porcelain gods.
Thatch stirred in his sleep. His foggy, dark eyes met mine.
“Good morning,” I said with a soft smile.
“Morning, honey,” he said in a raspy voice, but he didn’t move his head from my chest. Both of his hands were now holding on to my boobs and squeezing them playfully. “Mmm,” he moaned. “I need to add a new rule. Number fifty-one. These tits are my pillows.”
I laughed and flicked his forehead with my index finger.
“Ow, fuck,” he responded through a laugh. “What was that for?”
“I’m about to revoke your rule-making rights. You’ve made over twelve rules in the past forty-eight hours.”
He peeked up at me through sleepy eyes. “Rule number fifty-two. You can never revoke my rule-making rights.”
I grinned and decided to add a rule of my own. “Rule number fifty-three. If one of us has to be the designated driver, it will always be you.”
He chuckled. “I’ll actually agree to that one.”
I quirked a brow in surprise. “Really?”
“I think I have more fun watching you get drunk and wild than I actually do getting blitzed myself.”
“That’s crazy talk,” I refuted. “No one likes being the sober person dealing with a drunken idiot.”
“Yeah, but you’re an exception. You’re my favorite drunken idiot.”
A few giggles slipped past my lips, and his smile turned wide and blinding in response. He rested his chin on my chest and gazed up at me. His eyes were so endearing—full of zero pretense or judgment—and their dark depths revealed that every word coming out of his mouth was the truth.
“You took care of me last night, didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “I kept an eye on things, but I mostly just sat back, chatted with Sean, and let you do your thing. Did you have fun last night?”
I was with you. Of course, I had fun.
“I did,” I answered with a nod. “What about you?”
“Besides worrying about that old guy having a heart attack, I had a fantastic night.”
I tilted my head to the side. “What old guy?”
“Your dance partner for most of the night.”
“I danced with an old guy?”
He nodded as a slow, amused grin consumed his face.
The wheels started to turn, and my brain caught up with the hazy memories. “Oh…the old guy in the blue blazer? The one who kept pelvic thrusting his geriatric crotch into my ass?”
Thatch’s face turned up with hilarity. “In his defense, you were encouraging his senior citizen dance moves.”
I cracked up at that. “Oh, man. I bet Sean was thrilled. How bad did I embarrass him last night?”
“Like on a scale of zero to ten?”
I nodded.
One of his hands left my boobs and slid a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’d say a twelve, maybe? Twelve and a half, tops?”
“Fantastic.” I fist-pumped the air. “The night was a success, then.”
He chuckled.
“What about you? How bad did I embarrass you?”
He tilted his head in amusement. “You didn’t embarrass me.”
“Oh, come on.” I raised a knowing brow. “Be honest, Thatcher.”
“Honey, you didn’t embarrass me,” he responded in an even tone. “I thoroughly enjoyed watching you have a good time.”
“Even when I was grinding on the old dude?”
He grinned. “Especially when you were grinding on the old dude.”
My sleepy brain buzzed at the abnormality overload. That was never a guy’s reaction.
This man. What was I going to do with him?
He never failed to amaze me with his abnormal yet refreshing responses to my behavior. Thatch had become someone in my life that I could always rely on. Someone I could trust to have my back no matter what. Those kinds of people were so rare in a world filled with selfish motives and one-track minds. I felt lucky I had found someone like that in him.