enough, but I could chalk it all down to being a little less than a hundred percent sober last night. However, I couldn’t take back the words I’d said to him. The things I’d revealed after the gentle way he spoke to me, which lulled me to spill everything about my life.
Luckily, he’d stopped me before I could give away everything, helping me to bed instead.
“Charles?”
I yanked on the shirt I’d worn last night but didn’t bother to button it as I answered the door. August loomed tall in front of me, looking well rested and ready to start the day. He reminded me of how unkempt I was. My hair was sticking up all over the place, I had morning stubble I needed to shave ASAP, and my clothes were disheveled.
I was a mess, and I hated I looked like this after last night.
“I thought I heard you up and about.” August smiled.
“Good morning,” I mumbled, grabbing the edges of my shirt to find the bottom buttons to do up.
“No, I brought you these.”
In his arms, he carried neatly folded clothes—a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. That was the way he was dressed, but he looked good in the casual attire.
The hairs on his legs reminded me that there wasn’t a layer of hair on my body. I kept up my waxing appointment religiously. Usually women didn’t seem to mind, but I could see a guy like August so laid-back and down-to-earth finding the treatment…unmanly.
“Those are the only options?” I asked him. “No, thanks. I’ll keep these on while I call my driver.”
“I thought you’d want to feel comfortable over breakfast. I made coffee.”
I gave him the side-eye. “Coffee sounds good right now.”
His lips stretched into a grin. “I was hoping you’d feel that way.”
Oh shit, was that more flirting? I hadn’t gotten that wrong about last night, then?
“I really should go.” I hesitated at the clothes in his arms. “And I’d never be caught dead wearing that outfit.”
“What’s wrong with it?” He looked amused. “Would you rather be all wrinkly with a button missing off a shirt you had on last night?”
“I don’t have a button missing.”
He reached forward and yanked a button off my shirt. “There. Now one’s missing.” His clothes ended up in my chest, and I grabbed them. “Go get dressed. Breakfast is in ten.”
“Ten?” I fingered my hair. “I need more time than that.”
“You just need to change.”
“My hair’s a mess.”
He gave me a long, sweeping look from my bare feet—I hadn’t put my socks back on after my shower—over my body to my head.
“You look fine to me. Ten minutes, Charles.”
Was that an ultimatum? Before I could bristle at him for bossing me around, he walked away. I glared at his back, tiny sparks going off in my stomach.
August being in charge like this was kind of…hot.
Yup, I was anything but straight. Was there a thing as only a little gay? Or since I still found women attractive, would that be a little bisexual?
“Nine minutes,” he called out as he reached the staircase.
I ducked back inside the bedroom, swearing beneath my breath as I quickly changed to give myself time to do something to my hair. I didn’t care what he said. I didn’t look fine in my eyes, and I needed to do something about it.
He wasn’t that much bigger than me, and his shorts more or less fit. I wore shorts all the time on the golf course, but it felt different when I walked into the kitchen, where he served breakfast.
He flashed me a smile. “You made it on time. Have a seat.”
“Just coffee.”
He handed me a cup of coffee. And a plate of toast. With bacon and eggs. It wasn’t as much as what he had on his plate, but I frowned at mine. He had gone through all this trouble. How could I not hurt his feelings while turning down all this?
“It’s bran toast, the healthy kind of bread,” he said, sitting across from me. “And it’s turkey bacon and eggs substitute.”
I stared at him in surprise. “I’m not sure what to say. I didn’t realize Declan would have this in his kitchen. He and Owen eat just about anything.”
“They don’t.” He looked matter-of-fact about it as he took a sip of his coffee. “You were sleeping, so I did a quick run at the grocery store.”
It wasn’t fireworks this time but butterflies that fluttered into my belly. A mushy kind of feeling that made me want