mouth watered at the promise of impending food and I didn’t even know what he was putting together.
“So,” Ginny started, “how was your brother’s baby shower?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Roman cut me off.
“Baby shower?” He scoffed. “Who cares? I want to start with the good stuff.” Roman unwrapped a wheel of brie cheese and pulled a sharp knife through it, slicing it neatly down the middle and exposing its soft, gooey insides. “I want to hear about your night with Peter after Skip’s.”
My cheeks burned. Ah right, my drunken episode at the bar.
Ginny pointed an accusing but delighted finger at me. “You dirty girl! You didn’t, did you?”
Roman popped the cork on a bottle of champagne. “Did you fuck him? While you were that shitfaced?”
“No!” My cheeks burned hotter than they had seconds ago and I willed my face not to turn too red and give me away completely. I doubted I was having any luck. Roman was still wearing that smirk of his that made me want to slap his mouth clean off his face. “No, I did not. But he took me back to his place to spare me having to walk through the hotel. Or should I say stumble? I didn’t think that would go over well if any guests saw me.”
My friends nodded their agreement but didn’t say a word as they waited for more details.
I obliged them. “He was very chivalrous. He made me sleep in his bed and he took the sofa, and he let me sleep in his clothes.”
“Hot,” Roman said as he carried on assembling our food. “T-shirt? Button-up? Tank top? I need details, babe. You know how I get.”
“T-shirt.”
Roman nodded knowingly. “He’s into you.”
I blinked and looked from Roman in the kitchen to Ginny beside me, who nodded her agreement.
“Yep,” Ginny said. “He is most certainly into you.”
“Guys,” I said lamely. “I know that. I was drunk. Not blind.”
Roman pumped his eyebrows and scooped hot and spicy jelly onto the brie wheel. “That begs the question then. Is our spicy little Katie into him?”
I licked my lips, considered playing it cool and claiming I wasn’t sure how I felt, and then decided there was no sense in that. Roman always knew when I was lying, and Ginny wouldn’t believe me anyway, not after seeing firsthand how hot Peter was and how effortlessly he’d carried me out of the bar. It had been enough to make any woman swoon, and there was no doubt in my mind a little bit of Ginny’s swooning had been out of envy.
“I like him,” I admitted. “I like him a lot more than I thought I would. That morning after…” I trailed off as my lips pressed into a smile. I tried to keep my act together as I recalled how I’d spent the morning with Peter. “He let me use his shower. When I came out all wrapped up in his towels… well, I’ve never had a man look at me like that. Let me tell you.”
Ginny inched closer to me on the sofa while Roman slid the brie wheel surrounded by pieces of baguette into my oven. He closed the door with his hip, wiped his bread-crumb fingers on my dishcloth hanging off the handle, gathered our three champagne flutes, and brought them over to us. He handed one to me and another to Ginny, sat down across from me in my armchair, and hoisted his glass in the air. “Cheers to Katie finally meeting a good guy with a face worthy of sitting on.”
My eyes widened.
Ginny tapped her glass against Roman’s. “Here, here!”
“Guys, I don’t—”
“Don’t be a prude, Katie,” Ginny said. “It’s just a toast. But if I were you, I’d definitely use Peter as a bicycle seat.”
Roman snorted. “Good one, Gin.”
I rolled my eyes at the pair of them but clinked my glass against theirs anyway. We sipped our citrus and champagne.
Roman crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward to rest his elbow on his knee while he swirled his drink. “Tell us what happened after your shower.”
I smiled into my drink. “Well, he made me breakfast. Eggs and toast and coffee. And we sat outside on his front porch and listened to the birds while we ate. And then…”
“Yes?” Ginny and Roman prompted.
“And then I got into his lap and kissed him like I was giving him CPR.”
“Oh yes, you did!” Roman cried delightedly.
Ginny whimpered and pouted. “I’m so happy for you but so sad for