Rare Blend (Red Mountain #1)

24. Marisa

CHAPTER 24

Marisa

OH, GOOD, YOU’RE UP

C an someone turn down the sun?

Dry and crusted with last night’s makeup, my lashes stick together as my eyes peel open. I wince at the harsh light. My head throbs relentlessly, pounding with the rhythm of my heartbeat. I crank my neck, feeling the dull pain of a strain. I slept on my stomach, and I never sleep on my stomach. Moaning, I roll over, reaching for my lumbar pillow, but I don’t feel it. My hand pats along the opposite side of the bed. It’s not there. Forcing myself to sit up slightly, I turn to find it.

None of my pillows are here. Neither are my blankets.

Something isn’t right.

Everything is backward.

I rub my eyes, trying to get them to adjust. I’m definitely in a cottage, but it’s not my cottage. Did I go inside the wrong one last night?

A burst of panic hits me, and I pat down my body. Relief floods through me when I find I’m still wearing last night’s clothing, minus that nightmare of a vest. I slide my thumb under the band of my underwear and I’m relieved to find they’re firmly in place. Nothing like that happened, thankfully.

The events of last night start to flash through my head like a montage of fuzzy photographs. I remember taking the lemon drop shots, seeing Ethan, dancing a little, and then it starts to get a little hazy. There were tequila shots and that guy, Cole, and then it’s all a blur. The last thing I remember is a man’s warm, callused hands sliding under my thighs, carrying me, and putting me in a truck. I remember they were callused because of how they scraped across my skin. And I remember feeling like I was being cocooned in a warm blanket, like I was safe.

Cole must’ve taken me home, but not knowing what cottage I was in, he let me into the wrong one.

The slapping sound of skin padding against hardwood, slow and quiet, approaches the room. Whoever it is, they’re being intentionally quiet, as if they don’t want to wake me. Before my brain can wake up enough to start filtering through whoever is in this cottage with me, Ethan appears in the doorway with bare feet, well-worn jeans, and a white T-shirt. His hair is still wet from a shower.

“Oh, good, you’re up.” He says it so casually. Like it’s not weird that I woke up in his bed.

Oh, my God. I slept in Ethan’s bed.

He must see the panic on my face, because he chuckles. Ethan chuckles, smiling freely.

That’s even weirder than sleeping in his bed.

“Calm down,” he says. “I couldn’t get your drunk ass inside your place last night, so I put you to sleep in here. I slept on the couch.”

That’s strange. Because all of these cottages take the same key. Either he doesn’t know that, or he does know that. I’m struggling to process it, so I push it down. I’ll deal with that detail later. When I’m not foggy from alcohol.

He hands me a glass of water and sets a cup of coffee on the nightstand. “Water first then you can have some coffee.” Then he reaches into his pocket and produces a small pill bottle. “And some ibuprofen in case you’re feeling like shit.”

My eyes dart between the three items. This is a surprisingly sweet gesture. I’m not sure what to make of it.

My mouth is dry and cotton-y so I chug the water and take two of the pills. All the while, Ethan remains in the room, watching me, amusement in his eyes.

Laugh it up.

I can only imagine what I look like. My hair sticking up on all ends, a tangled rat’s nest. My makeup is probably smudged and clown-like. Basically, I’m pretty sure I look the worst I ever have.

“Thank you…for…all of this.”

He nods with a gentle smile. “I have to go in to work, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

“Isn’t it Sunday? And where’s Goose?” I look around, waiting to see his nosy big eyes, but he’s not around.

“It’s not really a nine-to-five job.” He laughs. “And Goose is at my parent’s house. It’s just you and me.”

I swallow, trying to ignore the way my stomach is dipping.

“Anyway,” he continues. “I’ll see you.”

I remain sitting up at the edge of the bed, still in shock, as I hear Ethan move through the cottage.

The front door creaks. “Bye, Marisa,” Ethan calls out before I hear it lock into place.

More memories of last night flash to me. Pretending to be Ethan’s girlfriend, Elyse bullying me into more shots, and then another one hits me. I jerk forward and my head spins. Shit!

He carried me out of the bar.

Oh, God. My body winces. I’m not sure why the thought of Cole carrying me out doesn’t really phase me, but imagining myself in Ethan’s arms sends me into a spiral.

I hope that’s the worst of it. I might die of mortification if there’s more.

According to Elyse, brunch is a must when nursing a hangover.

After leaving Ethan’s, I hop in the shower. Between that and the water, coffee, and meds, I feel like a brand new person. Still a little shaky, and occasionally nauseous, but not like the dumpster fire I felt like this morning.

Elyse said to meet her at Flat Stone at 10:30 a.m.

The restaurant is an extension of the winery, with its own entrance.

When I get inside, Elyse is already at a table, wearing sunglasses and very clearly still hungover.

“Why do you look so pretty and alive?” she grumbles. “You’re supposed to look like garbage, like the rest of us.”

I take the seat across from her. “I feel like garbage, if that helps.”

I can feel her eyes roll through her sunglasses. “I already ordered us some Bloody Marys.”

“More alcohol?” I wince.

“Hair of the dog, duh.”

“Remind me what that means again?”

She smiles deviously. “It’s when you keep drinking to avoid a hangover.”

My stomach rolls, and acid trickles up my throat. I think another sip of alcohol would be my undoing. I’m pretty sure it’s a myth anyway. I already did the wild, drunken nights out in my early twenties. As much fun as I had last night, that was a rare occurrence for me. I’d much rather have a night in than drink the night away and spend the remainder of my weekend feeling like I got hit by a truck. Elyse is obviously someone who enjoys going out a lot more than I do.

The waitress arrives, setting a Bloody Mary in front of each of us, and takes our orders. Elyse orders two breakfasts, one sweet, a Belgian waffle, the other savory, a breakfast scramble. I stick to my usual, safe order, and get an omelet.

“I heard my brother carried you out of the bar last night.” She’s smiling wide, giving me a suggestive look.

A blush skirts across my cheeks. “Apparently he did. I have no recollection. But he got me home safely, so that was nice.”

I leave out the part where he actually got me to his home safely. And that I slept in his bed. It’s really none of her business. Besides, nothing happened.

“He never goes out. I was kind of surprised he did.”

I shrug, not sure where she’s going with the conversation.

“He left his card at the bar last night, and I was going to run it over to him after we finish eating. Want to come with me?”

“Sure. I guess so.”

She smiles, looking pleased with herself.

While we’re eating, I tell her about my upcoming job interview. The Monday after I applied, I got called and asked to come in for an interview on the thirtieth. I’m still shocked they called me. I thought I would be more excited, but I think it hasn’t fully hit me.

“I’m happy I finally landed an interview, but I’m nervous about the drive.”

She looks at me, confused. “Why?”

“According to the weather predictions for Snoqualmie Pass, there’s supposed to be heavy snow, and my car does not do well in snow.”

She slides her sunglasses down, revealing bloodshot eyes. “Snow? Already? But it’s October.”

“I know, I was surprised, too.”

A small smile plays on her lips. “I think everything will work out. You’ll see.”