But I only half-hear what he said because I’m too focused on what Kas just said, and it’s ignited a fire in my belly.
“Um, I’m a pain in your arse? Er, hello, Mr. Pot Kettle Black! You’re mean to me every single day! Like, every day! And not just marginally mean. You’re, like, high-level mean! Meanest of the highest level ever! I’ve never had someone be so horrible to me as you are. So, if anyone is a pain in the arse, then it’s you!”
My rant over, the line goes deathly silent.
Shit.
I just reamed out my boss over the phone. I drunk-dialed him and yelled at him and called him a pain in the arse.
Fuck.
“Am I…fired?” I ask quietly.
“Tell me exactly where the fuck this bar is.” His voice is low, deadly.
I’m so fired.
“Camden.” I wince.
“Stay exactly where you are. I’m coming to get you.”
“You are?” That takes me aback. It probably shouldn’t, as he’s been asking where I am for the last few minutes. I guess I just never thought he’d put himself out for me.
“I might be a Kas-hole—as you put it”—Shit! I can’t believe I called him a Kas-hole to his face—“but I’m not the kind of arsehole who would leave a vulnerable, drunk girl in a bar alone.”
“I’m not alone. I’m with the cute bartender—”
“Exactly. Stay right where you are. Don’t fucking move, Daisy. And tell that bartender, if he puts a hand on you, I’ll rip it off.”
Okay…
Is it weird that I found that totally hot?
“Kas…”
“What?” he snaps.
“What if I need the toilet? I’ll have to move—”
“I said, stay the fuck put. I’ll be there soon.” Then, he hangs the phone up on me.
Moving the phone from my ear, I stare at it, bewildered.
“Um…he’s coming to get me,” I tell the cute bartender as I lower my phone to the bar. “He said something about ripping your hand off. And…I think I might be fired.”
“Daisy.”
I feel a hand touch my shoulder.
I lift my head from my arms, which are resting on the bar, and I look up into the gorgeous face of Kastor Matis.
I was expecting him to look angry. Surprisingly, he looks relieved.
“Did I fall asleep?” I ask him.
I remember talking to the bartender after I spoke to Kas. Then, I laid my head down, as I suddenly felt tired, and then…nothing.
“Are you okay?” Kas asks, concern clear in his voice.
I run a self-conscious hand over my hair. I can only imagine what I look like.
“I’m fine.” I nod.
“Come on, let’s get you home.”
He offers me his hand. I grab my bag and then take his hand. He helps me from the stool. I expect him to drop my hand, but he doesn’t. He keeps a firm hold of it as he leads me through the bar.
I glance around, seeing the bartender a little further down the bar, serving a couple of people. He lifts a hand to me. I smile, embarrassed that I fell asleep in a bar.
Jesus. What a complete wanker I am.
I stumble a little on my feet, and Kas catches me by the waist, pulling me close to his side.
“Okay?” he asks softly.
“Mmhmm.”
His arm stays around me all the way out of the bar and to his car. He helps me into his car. I have to admit to feeling a little bereft when his arm leaves my waist.
I’m putting my liking him touching me down to the amount of alcohol I consumed.
I put my seat belt on and snuggle down into the leather seat of his car. I shut my eyes.
His car door opens, and then I hear him climb in before the door shuts.
The engine turns on. Warm air blows on me, and Green Day’s “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” is playing softly in the background.
I feel the car start to move.
“Where am I taking you?” he asks.
“Home,” I murmur.
I hear him laugh softly.
I’ve never heard Kas laugh before. It’s a really nice sound. Like a balm to ease all pain.
“I’ve never heard you laugh before,” I whisper my thoughts. “It’s a beautiful sound. You should laugh more.”
He’s silent, saying nothing.
Worrying I’ve somehow managed to piss him off again, I utter, “I’m sorry.”
“For saying I have a nice laugh? Or for the drunk dial?”
I can’t read anything from his tone. So, I peek open an eye and look at him.
His eyes are fixed on the road ahead, but there’s a soft curl to his lips, which isn’t usually there.
Warmth spreads across my chest.
I close my peeking eye, feeling relieved but exhausted. “The last one,” I whisper.
There’s silence again. But it doesn’t feel uncomfortable this time.
It feels…serene.
Not a word I thought I would ever use with Kas.
Heaviness weighs on my body. The heat and song and motion of the car—and if I’m being honest, the scent of Kas—are lulling me to sleep, and I don’t bother to fight it.
“Thank you,” I murmur to him.
There’s a long pause.
I feel sleep start to claim me.
Then, I hear his softly spoken words just before everything goes black, “I’m the last person you should be thanking.”
Fifteen
Sheets are tangled around my legs. My mouth feels like the inside of a toilet. And my head is kicking a steady beat.
Groaning, I force my sticky eyes open. After a few blinks to clear them, my stare is met with a ceiling that doesn’t look like mine.