My alarm blared next to my head, and I hated it. Hated it more than a normal morning because it was two hours earlier than it normally blared. And I got up at six to get to my six-thirty Pilates class.
“I hate you,” I whispered to my phone, rolling out of bed, catching the rug with my knees.
Should I crawl to the shower?
As I laid my head on the mattress, my eyes begged to cover them with my eyelids. That was what they were there for, I guess I should let them do their only job.
I stood, not questioning where my willpower to move had come from. My forehead squished against the shower tile while I allowed the hot water to pound against my back.
Get out.
Just shut off the water and get out. People do this every day. This is not an impossible task, you lazy cow.
With that peptalk, I snapped the water off and slid out of the shower. Lotion was applied, with lip gloss, and tinted sunscreen slapped on with my eyelids still half closed.
I need to tip my lash artist more.
The doorbell chimed when I stumbled to the kitchen to switch on the coffee maker. With a longing look at the still sleeping coffee maker, I threw open the door with a glare.
Mr. Easton stood on my “I can see up your skirt” welcome mat as if it wasn’t the ass crack of dawn. The sun wasn’t even awake yet.
I scowled, until I noticed an energy drink clutched in his hand.
“Is that for me?” I stared lovingly at the black and red can, barely stopping myself from licking my lips.
“You know these are horrible for you, right?” His hand still held the liquid energy, and a flash of me clawing it out of his hands flittered through my mind.
“What? I had no idea. Thank you so much for bringing that to my attention. In fact, I will be a great friend and take it off your hands so as not to ruin your perfect health.”
He huffed, handing me the can. I did a small happy dance before popping the tab, the hiss still the sexiest noise I’d ever heard.
Sorry, coffee machine.
“Are you ready?” Easton asked. He glanced around my house, not trying to be inconspicuous.
“I am. Thank you for driving me to the office. Even though I could’ve just gotten a ride from Jules. She lives right across the street.”
“Yes, you mentioned that last night between the snoring and drooling while I drove you home.”
I stared at him, taking another drink, wondering if there was a hint of a smile on his smug face.
“And yet you are still here at the ass crack of dawn to drive me to work. Why is that?” I asked.
“You live alone?” He didn’t answer my question.
“I do.”
“Religious?”
“No,” I laughed. “It’s a long story.”
He cocked an eyebrow.
I inhaled, and gave him a short version, “I told Bradford I wanted to live near Jules. Jules and I found these houses and put in our bids. Bradford bought a house across town to surpriseme, but both mine and Jules’ bids were accepted. I couldn’t turn down the interest rate, and Bradford had already signed the papers. We figured when we got married one of the houses would be a rental.” I shrugged, knowing how asinine it sounded, but I didn’t want to dwell on old wounds.
He turned around and walked out to his car without looking back. He was so cocksure that I would follow him.
Ugh, he’s right.