5. Brayden

Chapter 5

Brayden

My head was pounding, and the alarm blaring from my phone didn’t help in the least. Sitting up straight in bed made my stomach roll as I turned off my alarm, but I was able to keep everything down with slow breaths.

After taking a minute to make sure I was good, I slipped out of bed to take a piss. My breath caught when I looked down and saw I was wearing rainbow birthday-cake pajamas.

Why am I wearing the rainbow birthday-cake pajamas?

Those were a gift for Augie because he had a birthday coming up and we always teased him about loving cake. They were expensive, so I never would have put them on…unless I was really drunk. Or if I wasn’t alone, which I hadn’t been.

Vague memories of the night flashed, and bits and pieces started to form a picture in my mind. I recalled talking to Ethan and telling him I was the one who had called him. Then I gave the bartender a big tip because he was so nice all night. And then I started walking home.

At least, I think I walked home. And then, apparently, I put on Augie’s PJs.

After using the bathroom, I went back to my bed and saw two painkillers and a bottle of water on the nightstand. I definitely wouldn’t have done that. I hated taking medicine unless I really needed it. And the way my head was pounding, I needed it, so I took the pills and climbed back into bed.

Opening up the message app was harder than I thought it would be because I was afraid of what I might find. There was a text waiting for me that made my heart beat faster—in both a good and bad way.

Mr. Rosemont’s name flashed in my notifications, and I hoped I didn’t do or say anything dumb when I was drunk. How are you feeling?

Headache, but I’m okay. I called you last night, right? It could have been a dream, but if it were, why would he be asking how I felt?

You don’t remember? He sent his first response back quickly and then started typing again. What’s the last thing you do remember from last night?

Leaving the bar and walking home. I think I walked home. But there were painkillers by my bed this morning.

I expected him to say something about what he knew, but he took a while to send his response, and when he did, it wasn’t what I expected. Can you eat? I can bring over waffles and coffee if you’re up for it.

Was I up for it? I didn’t know how much food I could keep down, but if Ethan wanted to come over, I wasn’t going to say no. Waffles sound good. And I’d kill for a vanilla hot chocolate.

I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.

Do you need my address? I had a feeling he didn’t, but I didn’t want to make assumptions.

No, I’ve got it. And don’t feel the need to change out of your jammies. You look really cute in them.

OK. Well, that answered at least one of my questions, but it also created about a million more. Like, if he saw me after I was changed, did he see me getting changed? Did he help me? Did we have sex? I didn’t think we did because I wasn’t sore at all.

But he didn’t give me anything else.

After a few minutes of waiting, I forced myself out of bed and tidied up my apartment. It wasn’t messy, but there was mail scattered on the coffee table and laundry that needed to be put away on the couch. I threw all my clean clothes into a basket and put it in my closet before needing to take a break on the couch to rest my eyes and my head.

I startled awake when I heard knocking on the door, so I got up and ran my fingers through my hair. This was it. The moment all my questions would be answered, including whether or not Ethan had the slightest bit of interest in me as more than just a drunk mechanic he once knew from school.

My eyes screwed shut for a long moment, and then I unlocked the door and pulled it open.

And there he was. Holding a drink carrier in one hand and a huge bag of food in the other, Ethan looked like a breakfast angel. Saving me from morning starvation.

“Hi.” I swallowed hard before taking a step back. “Come on in.”

Ethan walked inside and looked between the dining table and the coffee table. “Where do you want this?”

If it were up to me, we’d eat in my bed, but that didn’t seem like the right answer, so I nodded toward the dining table. “Can you put everything in there and maybe we can eat on the couch? I’m not really up for sitting straight up at the table.”

He glanced at me and then nodded once. “Sure. I’ll make you a plate. You can sit down and get comfortable.”

Um, huh? He was my guest. Well, kinda. He’d basically invited himself over, but still. I should be helping. Then again, I felt like shit and he knew it, so I took the out and curled into the corner of the couch, facing the middle with my legs folded beneath me.

If Ethan wanted to take charge of breakfast, that was fine with me. More than fine. It was a fucking fantasy to have a sexy Daddy like Ethan bringing me breakfast while I relaxed on the couch.

“You can start with this.” He brought my hot chocolate to me but held out his hand to stop me before I could taste it. “It might be hot, so just take a sip first to test the temperature.”

I grinned behind the cup and inhaled a tiny sip. “It’s not too hot, but thank you for the reminder.”

He watched me take a full drink before he turned back to the table to plate everything.

My eyes were trained on him the whole time he pulled out containers then buttered and cut up a waffle with toppings on the side and a separate plate with chopped fruit, scrambled eggs, and hashbrowns.

His ass was absolute perfection. In soft workout shorts, he looked like he might take off in a sprint at any second, and those hard mounds of muscle would expand and contract with each movement, propelling his body forward like a jet engine.

“I knew he’d be a good Daddy.” It wasn’t until I realized Ethan had completely stopped moving and looked up to meet his gaze did it register in my head that I’d said those words out loud. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

He grinned and then picked up the plates and set them on the coffee table in front of me. “Don’t ever apologize for saying something if it’s true.”

Okay, so he wasn’t mad. Maybe he was even a little bit flirty. I could work with that. “Fine, then I take back the apology.”

Ethan just nodded as he went back for his own two plates that looked similar to mine but with a lot more eggs. “Eat up, sugar. We’ve got some talking to do.”