Then Kiss Me (11 page)

“Yeah?”

“
Yeah.
 
Hold on.”  That was David’s voice.  I heard footsteps, then whispering.  Ah, my sweet little matchmaker.  I was so glad I wasn’t still sleeping.  I bet I looked like shit, but
had I been
sleeping I would’ve looked even worse.  I heard footsteps coming my way, more quickly now. 
And then
I heard the creak of the coffee table as someone sat on it.  I forced myself to open my eyes. 
Oh, fuck
.  No, it wasn’t David.  It was Scott, and I had no doubt in my mind I looked like hell.  Shit.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

I forced myself to sit up and a wave of nausea washed over me.  I managed to hold it down
,
but then my head started throbbing.  I grabbed hold of it on both sides out of instinct.  I forced myself to say, “Morning.”

“Man, you are one fucked-up chick.”

“Please, don’t be so sympathetic.  I might come to expect it.”

He started laughing.  “Can I get you anything?  Coffee, Tylenol…a new head?”

I stood up, taking my time.  “All of the
above,
please.”

He was still laughing when he said, “Coming right up.”

“I’ve got to use
your restroom first, though.”

I slowly made my way back to the bathroom.  It was much easier to find with light.  Once there, I ran water through the sink and splashed it on my face.  It felt cool
.  Then I shuffled to the kitchen.  When David saw me, he said, “Ouch.  You look like you’re not feeling too chipper.”

“You could say that.”  I sat next to him.  “By the way, I blame you.”

“
Me?
”

“Yeah.
  Isn’t there some saying…
Friends don’t let friends get drunk
?
”

“No, Case…
it’s
Friends don’t let friends
drive
drunk
.  I didn’t let you drive.  Therefore, I’m a friend.”

I screwed up my mouth in mock irritation.  “Well, thanks for that, although death seems preferable right now.”  I was kidding, but in all seriousness, I
was
glad I hadn’t driven home
the night before
.  I wouldn’t have been in any shape to do it.

Scott came back to the table and slid a mug in front of me.  “Here’s your coffee,” he said.  “And we don’t have Tylenol.  I hope Ibuprofen’s okay.”  He set two rust-colored tablets on the table by the coffee mug and then said, “Sorry I couldn’t find a new head
for you
.”

“Thanks anyway.”  I managed a smile.  I picked up the tablets and popped them in my mouth, followed by a sip of the hot coffee.  It felt good going down, but the way m
y stomach was acting, I knew I sh
ould only sip it.

David asked, “Want something to eat?”

“Hell, no.
  I don’t dare.”

Scott sat down next to me.  I noticed he was looking at my legs.  “Nice dress, by the way.”

Really?
  I’d seen my face in the bathroom mirror.  I’d seen better days.  Well, I guessed
,
if he could look past what the hangover had done to me, so could I.  “Thanks,” I
said,
the least lame reply I could think of.

His lips curled up into a smirk.  “Nice legs too.”

Seriously?
  H
e was flirting with me
?  God, if I’d felt better…  I was in no shape right now.  So I said, “That’s about
all
that feels nice on my body right now.”  I sipped more coffee.

David got up.  He was at the stove, placing a skillet on a burner, then grabbing sausage and eggs out of the fridge.  “Sure you don’t want anything, Casey?”

“Positive.”

“Scott?”

“Whatever, man.  You don’t have to make me anything…”

I took another sip of coffee and enjoyed how it warmed my throat. 
While
David engaged in his activities at the stove, I
propped
my chin on my hand and turned my head to Scott.  I lowered my voice and said, “By the way, I thought you were supposed to be here last night.”

He raised his eyebrows. 
“You too.”

“I got here eventually.”
  I grinned.

His eyes twinkled.  “So did
I
.”  I stuck my tongue out at him playfully and he laughed.  I started to laugh too until I winced in pain.  I grabbed my head again, trying to alleviate the pain radiating through it.
  The sausage cooking smelled okay, but I knew the eggs wouldn’t smell so great, so I took a large swallow of coffee and said, “Thanks for the hospitality, guys, but I’m going to go sleep this off.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

Shit
…if I were feeling better, I’d take a ride.
  Hell, I’d have given him the ride of his life. 
But…
  “No, I’m okay.  Thanks, though.”  I walked over to David and hugged him.  “See you later.”  I found my shoes and purse as well as the pantyhose I’d thrown on the coffee table and made my way out the front door.

The air was warm but not too hot and my eyes had finally adjusted to the brightness.  Still…I needed a nice, dark room and more rest.  I had to work late afternoon, but I wanted to at least sleep until it got closer to the time I had to go in.  I had to shake the nausea and headache.

When I woke up, I felt better.  I jumped in the shower and that helped too.  I started thinking again how stupid I’d been to drink that much.  For heaven’s sake, I was almost twenty-seven-years old.  I’d already done this crap over and over in college.  But I was starting over again.  Maybe I was just taking it too far.  But
I knew I wanted to be more responsible about it next time.

Then, after mentally chiding myself for my childish behavior, I tried to remember the highlights of last night…at least the stuff before I’d passed out.  It was fuzzy, but I knew David had told me that Scott had been waiting for me to show, and when he didn’t think I was going to, he’d left.  And this morning, he’d made a comment about my legs.  He’d been looking, so that gave me hope.  But now I figured I was probably making a mountain out of a molehill.  I really liked him and wanted to believe the feeling was mutual, especially after seeing me at my
hungover
worst.

I’d forgotten what a pain in the ass it was to be single.

So I tried to bring myself back to reality and headed into work.  Scott and David were also working, and it was busy when I got there.  I barely said
hi
before jumping in to help.

It wasn’t until later when it slowed down that David said, “You guys go take your breaks so I can go home, okay?”

I furrowed my brow.  “What the hell are you in such a hurry for?”  I was afraid he was playing matchmaker again, and I wasn’t in the mood.

But he grinned.  “I have a
friend
coming over for a late dinner.  I’d like to impress him with my cooking prowess.”

I smiled.  “Oh…okay. 
Gotcha.”
  So I filled a cup with Diet Coke and heading out to the break ar
ea outside.  It was warm out there
but cooler than the kitchen.  Two waitresses were heading back inside when I sat down.  Scott was already there, sitting at the table, smoking a cigarette.  I lit one up too and sat crossways from him.  “Smoking, huh?”

“Sometimes.”
  He exhaled.  “I get the urge on occasion.”  I nodded.  There was some light outside but it was kind of dark out there.  Still, it was enough to see facial expressions, and I saw his change from impassive to
amused
.  “You know, your legs looked much better without the jeans.”

I hadn’t expected that
.  I stifled my grin, but it was difficult.  “Yeah, but the jeans leave much more to the imagination, don’t they?”

He lowered his brows down onto his eyes.  What lascivious thoughts was he not sharing with me?  God, to have been in his head…  “Guess so. 
Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

I raised my eyebrows but said nothing, afraid of playing the wrong card in this flirting game.  So I just sucked on my cigarette and kept my mouth shut.  I decided to change the subject.  “So how long have you and David been friends?”  I didn’t know why I found it odd that a gay guy and a straight guy would be so close.

Scott chuckled.  “We’re cousins.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.
  So I guess that means we’ve been friends our whole life.”  I nodded.  “Seriously,
we both grew up here and
we were in the same grade,
went to the same schools,
and he got picked on a lot.  I beat up the shitheads who picked on him.  And then I got the typical ‘Oh, you must be a fag
too
’ response.”  He took a drag off his cigarette and crushed it out in the coffee can on the table.  “So I just beat them up again.  Eventually, they shut their
fucking
mouths.”

I wasn’t a fighter.  I’d never endorsed playground
(or other)
fighting.  Most of the time, it was stupid, but for some reason, it touched my heart
knowing
that Scott would fight for his cousin’s honor.  Hell, it did more than touch my heart. 
Thinking about Scott getting all righteous and in some asshole’s face for picking on such a sweet soul…well, it made me hot.

That also told me that Scott probably knew exactly everything I’d ever told David about him.  That would change
now
.  I loved David, but I wanted whatever was going on between Scott and me to progress naturally.  I didn’t
want it to be forced or awkward.  So I just said, “He’s lucky he had you.”

He shrugged and stood up. 
“Maybe.
  I
dunno
.  I probably made it worse.  The shit probably would have died down sooner if I hadn’t made it my mission to pummel some of those people into silence.”  He headed back inside and that was that.

I was constantly learning new things about the guy.  And, so far, there was nothing about him I didn’t like.  When I got back in, David was finishing up his stuff and then Scott got to leave soon after, leaving me to close the kitchen.  That meant I was alone with my thoughts, not always the safest place to be.

Chapter Seven

TWO MONTHS IN
Winchester.  I was beginning to like the place
in spite of myself, and it had nothing to do with Scott (although, I must admit, his presence helped)
.  The people were friendly and I could afford to live
t
here.  I’d been fixing up the place I was renting, and all the interior walls now had a fresh coat of paint.
  I’d also kept all the weeds at bay outside, and I’d planted a few
xeriscape
plants that would need a little water now and nothing in the near future.
  It was now June and the weather was heating up.  It was a good time to paint the outside, and I planned to get to it at some point
soon
.
  Inside, though, I’d even painted floral borders near the ceiling in the living room.  I just hoped my landlord would like the work I was doing.  In my bedroom, I had to patch up a couple of holes too, so I’d gone to Home Depot and they showed me how to patch drywall with texture and tape.  I hoped someday I’d remember how to do it again if I ever needed to know.  But the place was looking great.

Still on my house agenda:  painting the fence and doing more minor repair work.  When Lewis stopped by
in
late May, he seemed pleased with what I’d done thus far and said he wasn’t regretting
having me as a tenant
.  I was happy to save the rent.  Because of our agreement, the savings I’d brought with me (which, admittedly, I’d tapped into quite a bit), and my frugality, I actually had more money saved at this
point than
when I’d left Denver.  It also helped that I could eat a couple of things free on the job, and since I didn’t eat much to begin with, my food bills were low.

Oh, and Barry called once more to tell me he was
having
to take me off his health insurance.  I hadn’t realized I’d still been on it.  I didn’t really care, because I hated doctors.  I only went when I absolutely had to.  But Barry apparently needed more reasons to call.

I’d also sold another painting
at the gallery
and took some of my more traditional paintings for Isabel to choose from.  She merely replaced the one she sold, but she took a mountain scene, one of my favorites—a watercolor of a waterfall.  It was one I’d painted from memory, so it wasn’t accurate by any stretch.  In fact, I couldn’t even remember where I’d seen it.  It was somewhere in Colorado, somewhere my father had taken us on a camping trip when I was in middle school.
  I knew my painting made the place look more idyllic than it really was.