The Reality of You by Jean Haus

Author:Jean Haus [Haus, Jean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781500288150
Amazon: 1500288152
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2014-06-26T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Escaping a terrifying dream in which I ran after Reese, who found out about Kara having set Puerto Rico up, in an endless lobby similar to the one at our work, I woke in a puddle of drool that had started to dry. The side of my face was stuck—drool turned glue—and my mouth had dried to nasty, scrape-able fuzz. Confused as to why I was on a couch and feeling dejected from the awful dream, I wrenched the side of my face from the leather and sat back, dragging the blanket over my legs and trying to recall how I’d gotten here.

The dark fireplace brought back last evening’s memories. Dinner, wine, and Reese kissing me. His phone buzzing. Then me lost in my imagination.

The bright light from the next room clued me in on the time.

Morning.

Shit!

My hand smacked my forehead. Seven months of watching him and I fell asleep on the first night we were alone. Between the wine, the excitement, and getting up over an hour early yesterday to beat Kara out of the apartment, I’d been whipped, but sleep instead of Reese?

I was such a loser. I could have stayed home and played Friday night games online. I wanted to punch myself in the forehead instead of a smack.

Hard.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Reese said, leaning in the doorway between this room and the kitchen. His hair appeared damp, and he looked delectable in another pair of old jeans and a worn T-shirt.

I dropped my hand in my lap and blurted, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

He smiled slow and sexy, apparently liking that I had wanted him to wake me. “I tried a couple of shoulder shakes. You were out. Didn’t even flutter an eyelid when I took off your shoes. I contemplated carrying you upstairs but decided you evidently needed some sleep, so I left you on the couch.”

“Oh,” I said lamely. My hand curled in my lap so I didn’t smack my forehead again.

“I brought your suitcase down. It’s in the bathroom off the kitchen. I’m brewing coffee and getting some breakfast together. Thought we’d eat, take a tour, and then go for a run.”

“Okay. Yeah, that sounds good.” Ugh, I was so angry with myself that I wanted to scream.

I threw off the blanket, pushed off the couch, and quickly and carefully—since he seemed to turn me into an uncoordinated slug—stumbled past him while he watched me with hooded eyes.

The sight in the mirror had me groaning. My hair was a snarled mess, day-old makeup was smeared black under my eyes, and yes, dried drool was crusted on my cheek. I took a quick shower, but since we were going for a run, it was more to wake up. I brushed the living crap out of my teeth, put my hair in a ponytail, dabbed on some makeup, and put on a sweatshirt and running pants. Good thing, I’d thrown them in the suitcase. To be honest, I’d thrown a bit of everything in the suitcase because I hadn’t been sure what I’d need.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.