To Ruin a Rogue: by Heather C. Myers

Author:Heather C. Myers [Myers, Heather C.]
Language: eng
Format: E, P, U, B
Published: 2020-01-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

I hate drinking. This is why I don’t drink. The evening before is fuzzy, though I do remember all of it. It just comes back in broken pieces rather than all together, like a movie.

It’s not even dawn. I was conked out for a few hours, but for whatever reason, I’m congested now and my head hurts and I’m more awake than I want to be. The problem is the pain prevents me from sleeping and I’m exhausted. All I want to do is fall asleep. Instead, I’m staring up at the ceiling, blinking away the pain, trying to get the room to stop spinning.

I shouldn’t have drunk as much as I did. But Matt is an excellent drinking buddy and an even better kisser.

My cheeks turn red, like an apple you’d give to a teacher, and I look away, out the window. The curtains are blocking my view because I don’t want people to see into my room—even if it is on the third floor—and try and get to the woman who sleeps alone. But the curtains are this beautiful blue color and even through the darkness, it’s a nice thing to focus on.

I’m not sure if I regret last night—this morning?—or not. It’s hard for me to say. The way I feel when Matt and I kiss… My insides throb just thinking about it. His mouth on mine, that sizzle I’ve never felt before. I’m never nervous when I kiss, but Matt makes me nervous. Actually, he has this strange way of making me feel both comfortable and nervous at the same time. I’m on edge around him, but also relaxed. It doesn’t make any sense.

We kissed. We kissed, and I know we were both drunk and I’m glad he stopped it from going too far. Actually, I’m not. But I’m glad his intentions were genuine. He didn’t want to take advantage of me. That’s commendable. That’s nice. That’s what a good guy does, and I don’t know very many good guys. I don’t regret the kiss because it’s what I’ve wanted to do for practically my entire time here. I don’t regret it. I just wish…

I guess I just wish it were under different circumstances. I wish we weren’t drunk. I wish we were both cognizant and thinking clearly and we still chose to take that risk. The question remains, though: would we have kissed if we were sober?

I don’t know.

The alcohol gave us the necessary push we needed to actually do something about what we were feeling on the inside.

Well, I can’t speak for Matt. But it gave me the courage to do something with my feelings. I wasn’t afraid when he looked at me with those brown eyes, the way he kissed me, the way his hands fit on the small of my back, the way his fingers tugged at my hair. Now I feel silly for worrying about my hair in the first place.

It still hasn't given me any clarity on this whole tug-of-war about whether I choose to stay or go.

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