Page 37 of One More Chance
Jensen
Fallingasleep last night was difficult for the same reasons it was amazing. I held Harper, pulled her closer to me, and desperately wanted to sink into sleep. But my body, my body was very aware of her presence. It was overflowing with desire and about seventeen percent of me regretted not having sex with her when she offered it up. The rest of me—the better part of me—knew it would have been a shit move.
Now I lie here as the morning sun barely makes a dent through these black curtains, watching her sleep. I don’t know if she knows this but she snores, just the tiniest bit. It’s so soft it might go unnoticed if you weren’t listening for it in the silence.
Ugh. What is happening right now? Why am I watching her sleep like a creep?
I brush a loose strand of silky hair away from her face and loop it over her ear. Harper is definitely going to have a hangover when she wakes up. No doubt about it. That much moonshine would always return with a vengeance. I’ll make it easier on her, at the very least. I peel my body from hers, slowly retreating to the edge of the bed to look for my shirt. Surely this house has some breakfast, aspirin, and caffeine in it.
Stepping quietly out of her room, I turn to see Cora staring at me and press my eyes shut.
“Hey there, bub,” she says, a wide grin across her lips.
“Sis,” I return.
“What are you doing here so early?”
“I slept here.”
She gasps. “I knew it!” Cora starts dancing around, and I wave at her to calm down.
“Shh, stop that. She’s asleep and for sure gonna wake up hungover. Where’s the medicine and food and stuff?”
Cora leads me down the hall to the bathroom, retrieving the aspirin from the medicine cabinet. Then we head downstairs to the kitchen where Nan and Paw are sitting. Learning upon my arrival that that’s what literally everyone calls them was a pretty interesting experience. Calling them that myself does nothing to damper the nervous emotions I have about being here and having spent the night in Harper’s room.
“Good morning,” Cora greets them, and I nod silently, hoping to avoid eye contact.
“Mornin’,” Paw says.
Cora crosses to the coffee pot and pours three cups.
“Do you happen to have a tray?” I ask, knowing this will definitely arouse suspicion.
“Harper’s gonna need a bit more than coffee this mornin’,” Nan says, laughing. Oh god.She retrieves a tray, loading it with the coffees, a shot glass full of an unknown liquid, and a plate of giant greasy hash browns with two forks. “Here, dear. This’ll help,” she says.
She pats my arm and I look at Cora and then Paw, who raises his coffee mug to me as if he’s saluting me. I’m not sure I’ve ever been more mortified in my life.
I turn and slink back up the stairs, unsure if I’ve been given some sort of blessing or if this is mere entertainment for them. I crack open Harper’s door, careful not to make too much noise when I notice she’s awake, rubbing her head.
“Oh god,” she says.
“Hey there, fish.”
“Fish?” she asks.
“Yeah. Because you drank so much.”
“Oh my god,” she says, pressing her eyes shut.
“I got some stuff for you. A feel-better kit, if you will.” I sit on the edge of the bed and she sits up, leaning onto her elbow. Handing her three aspirin, I reach for the coffee.
“No, that,” she says, pointing at the shot glass.
“What even is this? Nan gave it to me.”
“Hangover remedy. I have no idea what it is but it works. I think it’s mostly alcohol and maybe something else. I don’t know. I don’t ask, I just take it,” she says, shooting the liquid back and swallowing the aspirin.
I exchange the shot glass for the mug of coffee as she sits up all the way and I scoot back, putting the tray between us. “Fork, my lady.” I extend my hand toward her, and she takes it, immediately digging in.