Boss I Love to Hate An Office Romance - Mia Kayla Page 0,73
at my bottom lip, and I pushed his hand away.
I tilted my head. “I did? I don’t remember that.” Shoot, when did this happen?
I tried to replay my last memory from the night before and realized I didn’t remember coming home. Well, this couldn’t be good.
His expression was tender. “You don’t remember a lot of things from last night, do you?”
A whole slew of scenarios filtered through my head, but the worst one—where we were both doing the naked dance together—had been avoided. Thank goodness. Nothing would’ve been worse than that.
“What else happened?”
He swallowed, and then the smile slipped from his features.
“Tell me, Brad!” I held my breath. My voice was whisper soft, and my body lay still, as I was afraid of what he was going to say. “Brad …”
“Well, what’s the last thing you remember?”
I paused, trying to recall. “I remember the ceremony and …” I cringed. “… part of the reception but not too much. I had a lot to drink.”
“You didn’t throw up. I’m pretty impressed.”
“I never throw up,” I said matter-of-factly. “But I never black out either.” I guessed there was a first for everything. I blinked up at him.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve never had that much to drink either.”
He lay beside me, one arm behind his head. It should’ve been uncomfortable that I was practically naked beside him, but shit, I simply lay there as though I were fully clothed. Plus, he wasn’t looking at my body like a creep; he was scouring my face.
“I have never, ever been that drunk.” I rubbed at my temple, and the pain seemed to subside. “And I never will again.”
Brad held this secret smile as though he were replaying all the embarrassing things I’d done last night in his head.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “What else did I ask you to do? You’re holding back. I know you are.”
He held a secret smile. “Kiss you.”
My eyes widened. “When?”
“Last night, after you told me to undress you.”
“All right then.” But then I remembered he had kissed me. “We kissed after the ceremony.”
“We did.” He dipped his chin. “There was more.” And his stupid smile appeared then.
“When, where, how? Just tell me.” The back of my neck turned unbelievably hot, warmth spreading down my body. Could your stomach flush with color? ’Cause I was pretty sure mine was right now.
I didn’t know what was worse—not knowing or having to relive the whole ordeal by him repeating it.
“Kisses on the dance floor and some more back here.” He laughed.
“Like peck kiss? Muah or … more?”
“So much more.” His tone was cocky and indulgent. “So much. We made out for hours.”
I groaned and threw one arm over my eyes again. “You are so enjoying this. I hate you.”
He chuckled, a deep sound in the back of his throat. “You wouldn’t be able to tell from how you were acting last night.”
This was way too amusing for him. I slapped his chest, and when I tried to hit him again, he held my hand and intertwined our fingers.
Awk-freaking-ward.
There were boundaries, and we had broken every single one of them. I tore my hand from his and sat up, surprised that my hangover had quieted to a dull hum in my head.
I decided it was better to not know.
“Well, since that crapfest is over, you’d better get going. It’s Sunday, and we have work tomorrow.”
I moved to the edge of the bed, reaching for an old T-shirt. After putting on my Def Deception band T-shirt, which was thankfully long enough to cover my butt cheeks, I placed one hand on my hip, expectantly looking at Brad. I raised an eyebrow and tapped my foot against my worn carpet. He needed to get out of here ASAP.
Amusement shone in his eyes. “You’re cheapening the moment and everything that happened last night.”
I wanted so badly to wipe the damn smirk off his face.
“Get out.” I pointed to the door and watched as Brad slowly sat up, his hair a disheveled mess but his face still GQ handsome.
He was probably the only male who didn’t have morning breath.
It was a sin to be that good-looking.
“But, Shorts,” he said in jest, “we had so much fun last night.” He walked toward me and reached for my waist. He was playing and eating up every little second of it.
I pushed his hand off me. “Get out. And Shorts? Where did that come from?”
“Your new nickname.”
He kissed the tender part of my neck, and I flinched.