“Go away,” I called but realized that not only was my voice too weak to hear, it also sounded like a frog with lung disease.
Sighing and clearing my throat, I rolled to my side, sticking my feet out over the edge of the bed. As soon as my feet hit the floor, I raised them back up. It was freezing in my room. I hadn’t even changed the temperature when I came back in. Thankfully, one of the few things I did bring from my parents’ house was a pair of fuzzy slippers. They would look silly under the jeans from last night and tank top I was wearing, but they would have to do.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I said, hopefully loud enough to be heard, as I kept one hand on the wall to guide me to the door.
When I finally got to the door and opened it, I stood blinking for a few moments before it hit me who I was looking at. Jordan’s cute brother, Matt. The one I embarrassed myself in front of.
In a wave of terror, the entire evening came rushing back to me, and I had to stand there and pretend like I didn’t remember it.
“Hi,” I forced out.
“Hey, Chloe,” he said. “You left this at the bar last night.”
He held out my purse and I felt like a total jackass. I didn’t even realize I had left it. I was so used to just keeping a credit card with me in my pocket or in my bra that I didn’t usually bother with the purse.
“Thank you, Matt,” I said, embarrassed and taking the purse. “Please, come in.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“No, it’s fine. Come on in.”
He walked by me, and the smell of his cologne woke me up a little bit. More memories of the night were starting to filter in, and I remembered how cute I thought he was. At least drunk me had good taste. He was gorgeous.
“I am so sorry for how ridiculous I got last night,” I said. “I was really drunk. I don’t normally drink, so I guess I didn’t really know where my limit was.”
“No, it’s fine. I didn’t mind being your sounding board.”
“Thank you. But it’s still embarrassing.”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said. “I see some real doozies all the time. Seriously, it’s cool. Don’t worry about it.”
“You’ll have to tell me about some of those sometime,” I said, shocked at myself. Here I was, hungover to hell, looking like someone had beat me up with a broom covered in lipstick and mascara, flirting with the man. I had no shame.
“Maybe I should,” he said and grinned. Something stirred in me with that grin that I wasn’t proud of. Nor was I proud of my attempt to suddenly develop X-ray vision, failure as I might have been.
“Well, I really appreciate you bringing that to me,” I said. “Is there something I can get you? A drink or anything?”
“Actually,” he said, “I was kind of hoping I could bring you out for brunch.”
“What?” I asked, sure I’d missed something somewhere.
“Brunch,” he repeated. “I know a place that will help that hangover. I swear by it.”
I hesitated. I looked like hell, and yet he seemed undeterred. How was that possible?
“You know what? Give me twenty minutes,” I said.
“Sure. I’ll go wait down in the lobby.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right down.”
“Okay then,” he said, smiling. Then he walked out of the door, and I shut it behind him, breathing a heavy sigh. Was this really happening? If it was, I needed to get clean. Fast.
Stripping off my clothes with lightning speed, I ran to the shower and turned it on. I had no time to shave, so leggings or pants of some type were going to have to be the order of the day, and my primary concern was not smelling like stale beer. With my hair still wet and tossed into a bun, I threw on some slacks and a cute blouse and some sensible shoes for walking around. Then I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs.
Matt was waiting on me in the lobby, just as he said he would be, and he smiled when I came off the elevator.
“I was worried you were ghosting me,” he said.
“Sorry, tried to get the hair to dry. No such luck.”
“Well, you look fantastic anyway. Are you okay for a little walk, or would you rather drive?”
“I’m fine walking,” I said. “Anything to get rid of the calories from last night.”
He laughed. “As if you need that.”
I smiled shyly as he stepped beside me, and we walked out of the lobby and into the bright Portland early afternoon.
Brunch was fantastic, and he was spot-on about it being just the cure for hangovers. The all-day breakfast place was the kind of spot that I never would have gone to in LA. It was trendy enough, sure, but my parents would have pitched a fit if I had been photographed eating somewhere that didn’t require a standing reservation or couture fashion. Hell, just the fact that I was actively eating in a public place was bad enough. Mother always said ladies ate at home.