Hate Sober (Love Me Duet 2)

“I can feel you staring,” he says with his eyes still closed. “Am I still too pretty?” he asks, opening his eyes as a blush creeps up over my cheeks.

I forgot I’d said that.

Shit! I was even playing Monopoly by myself like an idiot.

“You are, even this early in the morning.” I moan, covering my mouth with the blanket. He chuckles next to me as his dark eyes lock onto mine.

“You are, even more so.” He brushes my hair back, and I want him to kiss me. I want to kiss him back, but instead, I pull away and stand.

“This place is new,” I say, looking around. It’s homier, the couch we’re on is gray and very large. He has wooden floors, with a large rug under a coffee table in the middle, with his television, which has been on all night, hanging on his wall.

“I bought it for us.” I stop looking and stare back at him. “It’s closer to your work.”

My mouth opens as I lock eyes with him. “Us?”

He nods. “That other place was mine. And it’s not somewhere I want to live with my wife.”

“You don’t have a wife anymore,” I say as he gets up from the couch and stands, so he’s taller than me. His shirt is crinkled, and he’s wearing shorts. I eye him up and down as he looks at me.

“I’m hoping I will.”

“I need to brush my teeth,” I say. “Can you take me home?”

“You have a toothbrush in the bathroom. Let me order us breakfast, then I will take you wherever you want to go.”

“As a date?” I ask him.

He leans down, touches my nose, and smiles. “Whatever you want to call it.” Then he walks off.

I find the bathroom easily. It’s beautifully elegant with its gold accents and white marble flooring and cabinetry. An unopened toothbrush is on the counter, which I open and use to brush my teeth. I look back into his room, where I woke up last night, and see there’s a brand-new bed. This one has four posts and it’s chrome. He’s kept the same vibe with black bedding and wooden floors. Turning to the closet, I open it to see his clothes, then, as I look around more, I notice some of my things. I must not have retrieved all my clothes when I moved out of his place. My fingers drag across the dress I wore the first night we went out together and I smile.

“I see you found the closet,” he says from the doorway, which he’s leaning against.

“I was going to shower.”

He nods his head. “Your underwear is in there.” He points to the dresser, then he turns and heads back out. I open the drawer to find all new underwear, in my size too. Heading to the shower, I quickly wash and get changed into some of my older clothes I haven’t seen for ages. When I walk back out, Gunner’s at the table with the food all ready and he’s reading a newspaper as I sit in front of him.

“Didn’t know people still read them,” I say while reaching for the coffee. He beats me to it and pours it for me.

“I do. There’s loads of real estate listings, which helps for the business.” He closes it, and I look at the table. There’s waffles, pancakes, bacon and eggs, all laid out on it.

“Couldn’t choose?” I ask, reaching for the pancakes first.

“I don’t know what you like,” he says it with scrunched up eyebrows. “I should know what you like, Everly. I should’ve known everything about you. For this, I apologize.”

“Yep.” I don’t disagree with him.

“So, you like pancakes?”

With a nod of my head, I add some maple syrup, then I slice into them and quickly pop the bite in my mouth.

“What’s your favorite meal?” he asks.

I take another drink of my coffee before I answer him. “Indian. I love butter chicken. Could live on it for the rest of my life.”

“Naan bread?” he asks, smiling.

“Cheesy and garlicky, please.”

“Tell me your most hated food?” he asks, and I notice he’s not eating, so I say something.

“Are you not eating?”

“I don’t eat breakfast.”

I look at all the food. “All this is for me?”

He nods. “Now, most hated food?”

“That’s a tie between oysters and mushrooms.” Eww, I shiver at the thought of them. “Oysters remind me of snot and mushrooms taste disgusting.” I look up at his surprised smile. “I mean, it’s okay if you like that kind of thing.” I shrug. “Just never ask me to eat them. My mother used to try and hide the mushrooms in my food when I was a kid, but I always found them and then refused to eat the food they had touched.”

“Rebellious.” He cocks his head, fighting his smile.

“Very much so. You wouldn’t believe the things I got up to,” I say, smiling.