King of Harts

16

Emory

I wake up to the sun in my eyes and a raging headache.

Why do headaches after a night of crying hurt more than the headaches after a night of drinking?

This is why Xander and I drown our sorrows in beer and karaoke.

It takes me a moment to really get a look around, realizing I'm not in my own bedroom. It smells nice. Lots of space and very clean.

Everything from yesterday slowly starts to come back and I don't need a mirror to know that my eyes are swollen and I'm redder than a goddamn tomato.

Not one of my brightest moments, I admit, but I'm blaming it on my vulnerability. I'll admit that it was nice to open up to Adrian because he genuinely didn't know. It also felt nice to sit in his lap and even when he gave me the option to get off, I couldn't find myself to do it. Embarrassing and weak, I know, but when you're vulnerable, in the lap of man that looks like Adrian and he stares at you the way he was staring at me, you wouldn't want to leave either.

So, I sat there, pouring my heart out to a man that hasn't been my biggest fan for almost a decade and it felt really fucking good.

Which is just a jumbled up way to say I have mixed feelings about this newly discovered territory Adrian and I have stepped into.

When it registers in my mind what smell soaks the room I'm in, my panic starts to come back and I wonder how I ended up in here in the first place.

Peppermint and pine. Might be my new favorite smell. Probably won't ever admit that out loud but it's cool, I'm cool.

I climb out of bed and hurry out of the room with my cheeks all flushed and my hair looking crazy. I don't care, the last thing I need is to sit in Adrian's bed and fantasize about things I shouldn't fantasize about.

When I emerge from the hall, I'm greeted with the sight of a shirtless Adrian cooking breakfast and lord if I wasn't a better woman.

But I am a better woman.

I only allow myself to look because, come on! A shirtless man making breakfast? That's every woman's wet dream!

There goes those inappropriate fantasies again.

I stare for way too long, watching his muscles contract as he moves and holy hell is it doing something to me. Its become clear that he's a shirtless sleeper and all of the women in the world are not mad about it.

"Hungry?" He asks without turning around and it makes me jump like I was just caught committing a crime.

"Um- I- what are you making?" I stutter and want to shoot myself for it.

He turns his head to cast me a look over his shoulder and those full lips of his tug up in a smirk. Cocky prick.

"French toast"

"Yum"

Yum? Yum? Real fucking smooth, Mo, who are you? Your mother?

Adrian coughs and it sounds like it was because he's trying to cover up a laugh which makes me smile despite my embarrassment.

"Gray's still asleep?" I ask, realizing my brothers nowhere to be seen.