“I’m not going to feel very good in the morning, am I?” Kali grumbles as she shuffles herself side to side haphazardly over the marbled top, slurring her words.
“Nope.” I shouldn’t laugh, but I do. Her head will hurt like hell in the morning, and that’s the reason I’ve placed a plastic bowl from the kitchen on the floor next to my bed, just in case.
Following another run-in with her ex, which I wasn’t within earshot of, she proceeded to do shots and then down a concoction of cocktails.
Neither of which is a good combination and now her stomach feels like she’s been on a roller coaster. Her words, not mine.
Whatever Michael said sent her reeling downhill without brakes. He’s lucky he left when he did, or I may have punched him for making her cry.
Her friends disappeared with mine not long after, and that’s when I realized I was clueless about where Kali lived.
With no address to drop her off at, her phone password protected, and with neither Ezra nor Myles picking up my callsto ask Ellis or Joy, I was at a loss when I struggled to get a sensible answer out of Kali to tell me where she lives. So, I brought her back here.
Practically having to stuff her into the cab, she closed her eyes and laid her head on my shoulder before we’d even left the curbside, mumbling random words I couldn’t make out on the ride here. I couldn’t help noticing how good it felt to be taking care of her while she’s as drunk as a pirate… my chest swelling with an undeniable need to protect her and my cock semi-swelling at the feel of her pressed against me.
“What are you doing?” She swats my hand away.
“Taking your makeup off.”
She giggles in a girly way. “That’s funny.” Glazed eyes stare back at me. “You’re sort of nice.”
“Yeah?”
“Yup.” She pops thePover enthusiastically, spraying spit in my face.
“Gee, thanks.” I wipe my face with the fluffy hand towel that had been resting on the basin.
I explain to her what I’m going to do while she continues to sway. “Can you sit still for a minute? I don’t want to poke you in the eye while I put this cream on your face.”
Making a silly face, she attempts to sit up straighter and hold still but fails. Alcohol has practically turned her bones to Jell-O.
“Great.” I tuck her hair behind one ear and then the other. I would never be able to apply makeup, taking it off though? That I can do, with the help of the products I had delivered from the hotel spa by the concierge. I gave him a hefty tip for including a step-by-step guide of what order to use the skincare products in, which I read three times, making sure I understood.
“Close your eyes, Kali,” I say softly, and she does so without question.
Squirting eye makeup remover onto the cotton pad, I clean one eye, then pick up another pad and repeat.
I look down at the black makeup-stained white cotton, pleased with myself that I eventually got it all off.
I squirt a small amount of cleansing cream onto my fingertips and rub it together to warm it up. As gentle as I can, because I know the skin on my fingers is rough and calloused from holding a hockey stick for most of my life, I apply it to her butter-like soft skin.
Her face is flawless. She doesn’t need makeup, but I appreciate her Cleopatra look too. It suits her.
“That’s nice,” Kali mumbles.
Wiping the last of her makeup away, I throw the now reddened pads from her lipstick beside the others in the garbage bin.
“Just two more steps.” I grab the skin toner and oversoak the cotton pads by mistake. “Shit,” I hiss under my breath, squeezing some of it out into the sink. The instructions say to pat it into the skin, not drag, which I carry out carefully, avoiding her eyes like it says.
Almost finished, I dip my fingers into the moisturizer I assume is unlike anything Kali is accustomed to. I bet she wears face creams that cost hundreds of dollars a bottle. But this stuff… I pick up the glass bottle to check the label and don’t recognize it. It’s whatever the hotel sells in the spa. Might be expensive though. Not sure as I asked them to stick it all on my tab. The concierge brought a toothbrush too, which I made sure Kali used before I did her skin care. Don’t think she cleaned them very well. There was more toothpaste around her mouth than in it.
I should have taken a photograph to show her in the morning. I could get her back for making up that rotten folder of bad press stories from the first day we met.
Over her forehead and down her face, I rub in the lotion to the best of my ability, which isn’t very good.
“You’re supposed to go up,” she tells me, pushing the palms of her hands against her cheeks and sliding them up. “Stops the wrinkles. Always up.”
“I’ll remember that for next time,” I say, humored by her silly ways.
