I awoke to a sprained liver, quiet house, and no Gabe on top of or below me. Bummer. Instead, on the nightstand, was a bottle of pain reliever and a glass of orange juice. Be still my hung-over heart.
I hopped in the shower and felt like a new woman afterwards. My phone read 8:45, but the cabin was still. As much as I wanted to sneak into Gabe’s room and slide on top of his sleeping body, I forced myself down the stairs as I smelled something cooking.
I started into the kitchen but stepped back behind the wall when I saw two women putting tins of food on the counter. One had auburn hair swept up in a bun, leggings, and sported a Minnesota Wild sweatshirt. The other had dark brown hair in a ponytail, jeans, and a red sweater. Both around my age and very pretty. Caterers from town?
The auburn gal giggled. “Yeah, I wore Gabe’s sweatshirt to remind him that he owes me a sleepover at my place.”
Clearly not just caterers from town. At least one hook-up and a sweatshirt I wanted to rip off her even when she lifted a lid, and a heavenly aroma hit my nose. Damn the woman who was pretty and could cook.
I looked at the ring on my finger that seemed to have instantly lost a bit of its glimmer with the reality reminder that was cooking in the kitchen. This was a fling ring with a hook-up attached to it. Nothing more. He was an admitted single guy, and this was the universe reminding me with a swift karate chop to the throat.
Maybe this was his thing, a ring to remember. Every woman in every city he visits gets a ring for great sex, and that is the memory. Yes, I’ll die alone with a cheap ring on my finger.
I needed to be smart. I needed to be on the level he was to ensure I would make it out of this thing in one piece. Don’t get caught up in him. Enjoy what he’ll give, and don’t think of anything beyond the weekend.
Should I turn down the fling ring? That would be the wise decision. But what good is being wise if I never again feel like I do when I’m with him? Maybe being stupid while getting felt up by the most handsome man for a few days was the only thing to do.
The left side of my brain was screaming it would be best to let him go Sunday. Even one more day could ruin me forever. I needed to get some mental armor and not let him beyond that. I mean, sure, I’d let him have his way with me, but no emotions. The right side was completely silent, probably still drunk.
I needed to disconnect. Live day by day like a hippie with no vision beyond this moment. Live a fuck yes life. Enjoy the uncontrollable chemistry that could blow shit up and know that’s all it was. Live, laugh, and never fall for him.
I was about to go back upstairs and wait for the others to wake up so I didn’t have to face the reality in the kitchen, but I turned to find Tawnee by my side.
“Morning, Tawnee. How are you feeling?”
She giggled. “Well, I drank so much Vodka last night I work up with a Russian accent.”
I hugged her. “I believe you said Vodka was happy water for fun people.”
“Yes, it mixes well with everything but decisions.” She pulled away.
“Truth.”
“Hey, Fern, I know things have been crazy, but I’m so glad you could do this weekend and my wedding. You mean so much to me, and I could not celebrate this time of my life without you.”
I smiled at the cousin I loved so much. “Don’t say shit like that. I just put mascara on.” I nudged her with my shoulder as Beep and Bop in the kitchen waved us in.
“Hi, I’m Raquel, and this is Missy. We have breakfast prepared. Come on in.”
We sat at the table as everyone filtered in. The room lit up when Gabe strolled in. His hair was damp, and I felt a flutter as I remembered his wet skin on mine.
Before he could take a seat, Missy bolted over and nearly jumped into his arms. “Oh, Gabe, it’s been too long.” Her voice was sugary sweet with a southern twang. What in living hell was she doing in Minnesota anyway? Go back home where you belong, and get off my weekend pass!
“Nice to see you both. Thanks for preparing this amazing breakfast for my gang.” He sat in a chair as Missy and Raquel started passing out plates toppling over with food. I wanted to hate her, but my tummy was begging for the delightful breakfast with an aroma that wrapped around me. I was in a conundrum. Eat first. Hate later.
A plate came to me that was overflowing with pancakes, sausage, scrambled eggs and the prettiest blueberry muffin I’d ever laid my eyes on. Figures.
Dan pointed his fork at Missy. “Didn’t you make this same menu that morning last summer? When we ended up swimming all night in the lake at your place?”
“I surely did.” She walked over to Gabe and started giving him a little shoulder massage. RUBBING HIS SHOULDERS. “Remember how you and the guys crashed on the beach?”
Dan laughed. “Yeah, except for Wolkowski, he won his way inside.”
Missy shrugged her shoulders and let out a whispery giggle that even I had to admit was sexy. Damn her.
“Bet your ass he did. He also promised me we’d have another weekend this soon.”
Her words were a sharp elbow to my boob. He was a serial weekend passer.
