Page 70 of The Business of Love Box Set 1: Books 1 - 4

KIMBERLY

I was on a boat.

I was sure of it.

A boat in the middle of the Atlantic caught up in a massive storm with twenty-foot swells that spun me round and round and over and up and down and sideways.

I opened my eyes and blinked at my white popcorn ceiling.

Nope. Not a boat.

I rubbed at my eyes and tried to clear the nauseating dizziness in my head.

It didn’t work. In a haze, I rolled over.

It felt as if my mattress were still rocking upon the Atlantic as I reached for a cup of water on my nightstand.

I managed to drink half the cup before I noticed two little red aspirins sitting beside my alarm clock.

I popped those in my mouth, washed them down, and marveled at drunk-me’s ability to watch out for hungover-me the next morning by placing the painkillers there.

Usually, taking care of myself when I’d had several drinks too many was not my strong suit. I was the girl who came home, pitched forward face first in bed in her same clothes and with her hair and makeup done, and worried about fixing it all the next day.

And by fixing it, I would lounge around in said clothes and leave my makeup on until close to three in the afternoon when I was feeling a little more human. Then I’d shower and possibly eat something.

But this? Water and painkillers on the nightstand? This was new.

I drank more water and forced myself to sit up. The blinds were drawn and my room was awash in pale gray morning light. It was nearly nine o’clock in the morning and I wondered what time I’d even come home.

What was the last thing I remembered?

I recalled ordering one last round with Hailey and Jackson, even though we all knew we should slow down.

We were having too much fun. We’d moved from the brewery to a bar down the street that had a live band and a big dance floor—which explained why my knees were hurting.

Maybe there’d been a little too much droppin’ it low.

“No such thing,” I mumbled as I swung my legs over the side of the bed.

I had to sit there and wait for the new rush of dizziness to subside before I actually set my feet on the floor and stood up.

I paused again, waited as patiently as I could, and then padded in a zig-zagging line across my bedroom and into my bathroom, where I nearly blinded myself when I flicked the lights on.

I groaned, shielded my eyes, and turned to face the mirror above the sink where I stared in horror at my reflection.

Yep, I was a mess.

Lucky for me, I hadn’t worn any makeup yesterday.

But my hair was a frizzy disaster. Several pieces had come free of my braid and stuck out every which way, reminding me of my very awkward eleven-year-old self.

I ran the tap, splashed cold water on myself, went to the washroom, and brushed my teeth.

As the toothpaste foamed in my mouth, I tried to figure out when I’d gotten home.

And how.

I’d taken a cab. Jackson had called one for me. He could always hold his liquor better than I could, even though I tried to match him shot for shot every time I passed drink number five. After that, all bets were off.

“Tequila,” I mumbled bitterly around my toothbrush before leaning over the sink, spitting, rinsing, and taking a swig of mouthwash.

There had definitely been tequila last night. And rum. And a bit of vodka. No wonder I felt like death.

The cab had brought me back to my apartment. I remembered thanking the driver, who Jackson had already paid, and he told me that, per Jackson’s request, he would wait at the curb until I got inside.

I’d walked up to the front doors looking for my keys in my purse.

And then—

“ Oh God ,” I breathed. My eyes widened at my own reflection as I remembered Rick sitting on the front steps waiting for me. Suddenly, it all came rushing back, him walking me up to my apartment and helping me get to bed.

Oh, and the little matter of me pouring my silly drunken heart out to him.

“Fuck.”

It was too much too soon. I never should have spilled my guts like that.

What was he supposed to do with all that information after the breakup he’d just gone through?

Why would he want to fall into another serious relationship when he could step back and take a breather? And why would he want to be with me?

“You’re a mess,” I scowled at myself. “A downright mess.”

I looked down at myself. I was still wearing my powder-pink sweatshirt that smelled a little bit like cigarettes and beer.

My leggings were gone and I was wearing a pair of bikini-cut navy-blue panties with little flowers all over them.

They were a new pair, a special pair. They were supposed to be saved for a cute evening in with a good book, not used to sleep in when I was shitfaced.

Was I the only girl who did that? Bought new things and waited for a specific time to wear them? I couldn’t be.

I gave my head a shake. Why was I thinking about my panties? It was too hard to focus when I was hungover. I needed coffee. And toast. And a chance to sit down and get right with myself so I could figure out how the hell I could patch up the damage I’d done last night with Rick.

Coffee first. Everything else later.

I left the bathroom and moved down the hallway into the kitchen. No lights were on except the one above the stove and I left it like that as I filled my black-and-white polka-dot kettle with tap water. I set it on the element and turned it on high.

Then someone in my living room cleared their throat.

I spun around and smacked my hip on the counter. I yelped, cupped a hand to the spot that was definitely going to bruise, and blinked rapidly as my gaze fell on Rick sitting on my sofa.

He offered me an apologetic smile. “Morning. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

I put a hand over my rapidly beating heart. “That’s okay. I didn’t realize you’d stayed the night.”

He nodded at my coffee table, where there was a white paper bag rolled closed and a cardboard tray with two coffee cups in it. “I brought you breakfast.”

“Oh.”

I flicked off the element and tugged my sweatshirt down.

I went and sat on the sofa with him with my knees pinched together and my hands tucked into the sleeves of my sweatshirt.

Could he smell the cigarettes and beer? Did he think I was an absolute mess?

Now that he’d seen me at my worst, was he ready to bail?

Rick plucked one of the coffees from the tray and slid it to me. “I didn’t put anything in it. I wasn’t sure how you took it.”

“Black is perfect,” I said, reaching for the cup and taking a sip. The first few mouthfuls were bitter after my toothpaste, but by the fifth, it was heavenly and my belly was grateful.

Rick opened the bag and pulled out two cherry Danishes with sugar caramelized on top. My mouth immediately started watering and he passed me one.

I took a massive bite and he chuckled. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to eat.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, wiping crumbs from my lips. “I was an absolute mess last night. I had no idea you were going to be here. Otherwise, I never would have let myself get so—”

“Kim, don’t be silly. You had a fun night out with your friends. There isn’t anything wrong with cutting loose every once in a while. Besides, you had every reason to want a night of careless fun after what’s been going on.”

I hadn’t expected that. “Thank you for taking care of me,” I said.

He washed down a bite of cherry Danish with a sip of coffee. “It was my pleasure. If I’m being completely honest, it was more than a little entertaining.”

I groaned and hung my head. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why?”

“Because of everything I said to you.”

“Was it not true?”

I looked up at him. “Do you want it to be true?”

“Yes.”

His answer was so quick and so certain that it surprised me and left me grappling with the right thing to say.

He chuckled. “You didn’t expect that?”

I shook my head. “No, not at all. I thought you were going to think I was too messy and this was a bad idea and that you never should have gotten involved with someone like me.”

“Someone like you?”

“Yes. We come from very different lives, Rick. And I would understand if you wanted someone a little more sophisticated and—”

“Are you still drunk?”

“What? No.”

He put his coffee down and inched closer to me. “Then stop spouting nonsense.”

I looked down into my lap again. “I just wish I’d had a little more self-control last night.

Everything I said to you was true but… I would have liked it to come out at a better time.

Where I could have had a bit more class and control over what I was saying.

And when I didn’t smell like an ashtray. ”

He chuckled. “You’re genuine, Kim. I like that about you.”

What else did he like?

“Thank you,” I said.

“For the record,” he said, reaching out and putting a hand on my bare knee, “I care about you too. And I caught myself on multiple occasions thinking about you when I was still with Verity. I’m still trying to figure out what that means and what the right thing to do is here.

A lot has happened in the last few weeks. ”

“You could say that again.”

“But I want to try this with you, Kim.”

I blinked. “You do?”

“Yes,” he said. “As long as you want to try with me.”

A huge weight rolled off my shoulders. The storm in my belly subsided and the haze in my brain cleared as I stared at the man before me. He wanted to try this? For real? I hadn’t scared him off?

“Are you sure?” I breathed.

“Positive. Now finish that coffee and your Danish. It will make you feel better.”