Unsuitable
Page 29

 Samantha Towle

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I lift my head from my arms, which are resting on the bar, and I look up into the gorgeous face of Kastor Matis.
I was expecting him to look angry. Surprisingly, he looks relieved.
“Did I fall asleep?” I ask him.
I remember talking to the bartender after I spoke to Kas. Then, I laid my head down, as I suddenly felt tired, and then…nothing.
“Are you okay?” Kas asks, concern clear in his voice.
I run a self-conscious hand over my hair. I can only imagine what I look like.
“I’m fine.” I nod.
“Come on, let’s get you home.”
He offers me his hand. I grab my bag and then take his hand. He helps me from the stool. I expect him to drop my hand, but he doesn’t. He keeps a firm hold of it as he leads me through the bar.
I glance around, seeing the bartender a little further down the bar, serving a couple of people. He lifts a hand to me. I smile, embarrassed that I fell asleep in a bar.
Jesus. What a complete wanker I am.
I stumble a little on my feet, and Kas catches me by the waist, pulling me close to his side.
“Okay?” he asks softly.
“Mmhmm.”
His arm stays around me all the way out of the bar and to his car. He helps me into his car. I have to admit to feeling a little bereft when his arm leaves my waist.
I’m putting my liking him touching me down to the amount of alcohol I consumed.
I put my seat belt on and snuggle down into the leather seat of his car. I shut my eyes.
His car door opens, and then I hear him climb in before the door shuts.
The engine turns on. Warm air blows on me, and Green Day’s “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” is playing softly in the background.
I feel the car start to move.
“Where am I taking you?” he asks.
“Home,” I murmur.
I hear him laugh softly.
I’ve never heard Kas laugh before. It’s a really nice sound. Like a balm to ease all pain.
“I’ve never heard you laugh before,” I whisper my thoughts. “It’s a beautiful sound. You should laugh more.”
He’s silent, saying nothing.
Worrying I’ve somehow managed to piss him off again, I utter, “I’m sorry.”
“For saying I have a nice laugh? Or for the drunk dial?”
I can’t read anything from his tone. So, I peek open an eye and look at him.
His eyes are fixed on the road ahead, but there’s a soft curl to his lips, which isn’t usually there.
Warmth spreads across my chest.
I close my peeking eye, feeling relieved but exhausted. “The last one,” I whisper.
There’s silence again. But it doesn’t feel uncomfortable this time.
It feels…serene.
Not a word I thought I would ever use with Kas.
Heaviness weighs on my body. The heat and song and motion of the car—and if I’m being honest, the scent of Kas—are lulling me to sleep, and I don’t bother to fight it.
“Thank you,” I murmur to him.
There’s a long pause.
I feel sleep start to claim me.
Then, I hear his softly spoken words just before everything goes black, “I’m the last person you should be thanking.”
Fifteen
Sheets are tangled around my legs. My mouth feels like the inside of a toilet. And my head is kicking a steady beat.
Groaning, I force my sticky eyes open. After a few blinks to clear them, my stare is met with a ceiling that doesn’t look like mine.
It’s not my ceiling.
Sharply turning my head, ignoring the pain it causes, I see that I’m not in my bedroom. It looks familiar, but I’m not sure…
Where in the hell am I?
I quickly sit up, my head going woozy. I press my hand to my head as panic makes my heart beat hard. Then, I realize that the bed I’m sitting in is the bed in one of the guest rooms at the Matis Estate.
What the hell am I doing here?
And then it all comes flooding back to me, like a bad movie.
Ah…fuck.
I saw Jesse yesterday, and he told me that he hated me. I press the heel of my hand to my chest, pushing against the pain that pierces it.
After Jesse, I found my way into a bar.
Got drunk. Cute Bartender. Drunk-dialing Kas. Him coming to the bar to get me. Putting me in his car. Falling asleep…
Why did he bring me here? Why didn’t he take me home? What time is it?
My eyes swing to the clock on the nightstand, catching on a glass of water sitting by it.
Seven thirty a.m.
As in, seven thirty a.m. on Sunday morning?
Shit!
Cece!
She’ll be worried sick. I didn’t call her, like I said I would, and I was out all night.
Ripping the bedsheet off me, I jump out of bed, looking for my bag, but it’s nowhere to be seen.
But I do see my dress from yesterday hanging over the back of the chair at the dressing table, and my shoes are on the floor by it.
I glance down at myself to find that I’m wearing a black Kasabian T-shirt that hits the backs of my thighs.
It must be Kas’s T-shirt.
That means he…
Oh dear God.
He undressed me and changed my clothes. I still have my bra and knickers on.
Thank God.
I yank the T-shirt off, getting a lungful of Kas’s scent as it passes over my face. I grab my dress and pull it on. Then, I quickly make the bed.
I grab the glass of water and down it. Taking the glass with me, I grab my shoes and the T-shirt, so I can put it in the laundry.