The smell…” I shook my shoulders like I could rid my body of the sensation.
“I guess when your core group of friends is made up of dudes who think they can drink more than they should, you’re kind of desensitized to someone getting sick.”
The elevator opened on the fifth floor and I followed Liam out, not really grasping the gravity of the situation until he was sliding his key card over the lock until the light flashed green. I was going to spend the night with Liam.
I have two queen beds. That’s what he’d said, right? There were no assumptions being made in me following Liam to his room. We could fall asleep in separate beds. As friends.
I thought of the first kiss we’d had, then the second when he’d said, “My turn,” and then the one in the conservatory and the one in the garden following. Yeah, totally could be just friends, I thought sarcastically.
“Shit,” I said as Liam emptied his pockets of his wallet and car keys.
“What?”
“I didn’t grab my suitcase.” I looked down at the dress that had served as my wedding dress. “I don’t have my pajamas.” The thought of going back up to the vomit-filled room made me feel sick all over again.
“I’ll give you a t-shirt, if you want?” He moved to the luggage rack where his suitcase lay open. He dug around for a moment before producing a hunter green shirt and tossing it to me. “Here.”
I caught it and opened it up. “Green Creek Golf Course.”
“It’s the course my friends and I have been going to for a decade.”
I rubbed the tee against my cheek. “It’s soft.”
“It’s been well-worn.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said, gesturing toward the bathroom at my back.
“Take your time.” He stripped out of his sport coat and folded it neatly, laying it over the back of a chair as I ducked away into the bathroom.
Facing my reflection in the mirror, I took a deep breath. “Holy fucking shit.” It was the first time I’d gotten a look at myself since the wedding and I’d definitely looked better. My makeup had been no match for the dry desert heat, so it had all but melted away. I swiped at the smudge of smeared mascara under my eyelids before wetting a washcloth and wiped it off entirely. When my face was relatively clean and pink from the rough fibers of the cloth, I wet it again and started wiping all the spots on my body where sweat had collected. I kicked myself for the second time for forgetting my suitcase. I wanted my toothbrush, my face wash, and my deodorant. I’d have to settle for my finger and a vigorous gargling of mouth wash for the first bit, the cheap hotel-provided soap for my face, and hand sanitizer for my pits. I’d read in a magazine once that hand sanitizer worked in a pinch.
I slid the straps of the dress down over my shoulders and shimmied my way out of the dress. Folding it carefully, I took in the state of my strapless bra. I didn’t have much to write home about when it came to my boobs, but the strapless bra had protected me from any fashion mishaps that may have happened if the teeny straps on my dress had snapped.
I debated briefly leaving it on, but the t-shirt Liam had given me to borrow came up to my neck. Even if I bent over, you wouldn’t see anything. Well, at least in the chest region—the ass region was another story.
The shirt was long enough to cover my ass, but the thong I’d donned under my dress wasn’t exactly a modest thing. So, no bending over.
I took one final look at myself and at the last minute pulled my hair out of the ponytail so that my blonde locks fell over my shoulders.
For a moment, I regretted not dancing with Liam at the club. Normally, I’d have embraced dancing like an absolute idiot. But it hadn’t felt right. The wedding had been fun, yes, but more than that it had been serious. And club music exclusively didn’t lend itself to the serious side. It was ridiculous to feel robbed of a first dance when we’d been robbed of a formal reception and cake cutting, too.
It wasn’t real, I reminded myself as I stared at the silver ring nestled next to the paper one he’d made. The paper ring would surely get crushed if I wore it to bed, so