Painted Memories (14 page)

What time was it anyway?
And how long had I been sleeping in Drew's bed? I snuggled down under the comforter and thought about last night and the fun I had... we had. Oh no, how much
fun
did we have? After taking me to his bed, my memory was kind of sketchy. I peeked under the covers to see the extent of my fun and found immediate relief. Thank God I still had my clothes on! The pillow was soft, caressing my splitting headache as I nestled down in the sheets. I savored the memory of what transpired between us last night. Then there was the dream I had…  Drew coming into the room, completely innocent and with no ulterior motives, kissing me with his arms wrapped around me. It was such a sweet dream; I didn't want it to end.

The whole night was incredible. The only thing that would have made it better would have been less alcohol. I could only
imagine how much more intense our little make-out session would have been. I wanted more: more kissing and more of him. It could have been the alcohol that heightened my senses and made it more passionate than it really was, but I preferred not to believe that. I sighed and sat up. Pulling my legs over the side of the bed, I wasn't sure what I would do. How was I supposed to act around him now, I wondered, after last night? I wasn't even sure if he remembered any of it himself. One thing I did know for sure, I didn't want things to change. I liked the place we were in. We got along great together and he liked making me laugh. We were both interested in the arts and always had a lot of fun together. I didn't want what happened last night to change any of that. I'd just have to deal with it when I faced him, if I could ever drag myself out of this bed.

Standing up, I checked my bearings. I didn't want to feel wobbly like last night. My head pounded on the walls of my skull and I wasn't prepared to handle it. I wanted to go back to sleep and deal with it later. Maybe if I was extra lucky, Drew got drunk enough that he didn’t remember what happened last night, and I could pretend nothing happened. Then there wouldn't be any expectations before going forward. We could continue with our fleeting kisses and sideways glances until something more transpired between us in its own natural way.
And without the effects of alcohol and reckless behavior.

I stumbled into the living room, with my brain feeling like a floating brick was banging back and forth inside my skull. I hadn't felt as bad as this since my early college days, when drinking was as regular as changing your underwear. It quickly reminded me that the consequences outweighed all the fun from the night before.

Drew sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine when I walked into the room. I sat at the far end of it. He smiled when he saw me, and of course, looked hangover free.

“Good morning, how do you feel?” he asked, putting down the magazine.

“Like crap. What time is it?” I asked as I rubbed my temples with my fingers.

“Ten-thirty.”

“Oh God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to stay so long. You should have woken me up.”

“Don't be. I didn't mind.
You hungry?”

“No, I don't think I could stomach any food right now. Did we have a good time last night?” I was fishing, trying to see how much he would admit without me acknowledging anything happened. “How much did I drink?”

“You had several drinks at the restaurant and we were working on our second bottle of wine here. I had a pretty good night. How about you?”

The look in his eyes and the sweet smile on his lips told me he had more than a
good
time last night. But I wanted to hear him allude to how much more it was than that. “Yeah, I had a good time too, but I should not have consumed so much alcohol.” How did I end up in your bed anyway? I really hope I didn't make an ass out of myself?

Drew sighed and stood up. He walked into the kitchen, filled a glass of water from the tap and grabbed a small, white bottle from the counter top before walking back over to me. “Here, take two of these and you should eat something.” Sitting beside me, he handed me the glass. “And don't call yourself an ass... you're far from it.” He pushed my hair back behind my shoulder and exhaled heavily. “As far as the bed goes, you got sick and I made you lie down for a bit. I did go back to check on you later, but you were sleeping so soundly, I didn't have the heart to wake you up. Plus, my couch is pretty decent to sleep on.”

I took a sip and swallowed the Tylenol. That's it? Why couldn't he say what happened? I'm pretty confident he wasn't as drunk as I was, considering he had enough sense to help me into bed and tuck me in. He even checked on me in the middle of the night to make sure—. Wait! He came back and checked on me? I vaguely remembered getting sick, but not the—.

“I'll be right back, I need to use the bathroom,” I said as I jumped up. Gritting my teeth, I was trying to ignore the sharp pains in my head as I hurried to the bathroom. I could feel him watching me as I walked away, but I had to leave the room. Once inside the bathroom, I sat down on the side of the tub and put my head between my hands to stop the spinning. I thought I dreamt it, but I didn't. I thought back for a minute and replayed the events of last night. Throwing up, falling into his bed,
dozing off to sleep... the light touch as something slid across my forehead and down my cheek.
Oh God!
I stirred awake and opened my eyes to see Drew was sitting next to me on the bed. I could hardly hold my eyes open, but I grabbed his arm when he stood up to leave and mumbled, “Don't go.”

Drew pressed his finger to my lips. “You should sleep,” he said before leaning over and lightly grazing his warm lips over mine. When he pulled away, I grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him back down over me to kiss him again. He complied with my demand, kissing me softly at first, then harder, and nibbling my bottom lip while licking it with the tip of his tongue. Melting into the mattress, my hands loosened their grip, and a moment later, he pulled away.  I kept my eyes closed, believing if I kept them like that, he'd come back for more. When nothing happened, I opened my eyes to see him stepping away. “Won't you stay?” I pleaded.

“Not this time. I'm afraid you won't remember any of this tomorrow. But when you wake up, if you still want me like you did tonight, I'll gladly kiss you again.”

“Until the morning then,” I muttered before he shut the door.

I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I squeezed them shut to keep them from falling. It was such a sweet, yet passionate moment, and I was ready to walk back out there, face Drew and not even acknowledge it happened... unless he brought it up. I wasn't about to mention it if he didn't think it was a big deal.  I squared my shoulders and walked out into the hall. I needed to leave. I couldn't stay here one more minute or I would cave-in and tell him that I remembered it all and loved every second of it. That I wanted it to happen, wanted him to
want
to kiss me... as much as I didn't want it to happen while we were drunk, I wanted it just the same.  I grabbed my purse from the kitchen table and walked towards the door.

Drew must have suspected my need to escape because he cut me off, blocking my path to the door. “Hey, where are you going? What's the matter?” He caressed my cheek with worry on his face.

I turned my head away from his hand, “I'm fine. I got sick again. I need to go home, sleep this off in my own bed, take a hot shower, and try to eat something. I'll be fine. I just want to feel normal again.”

“Would you like me to keep you company? Or fix you something to eat? I don't mind.”

No! Tell me you loved kissing me and you want to do it again. Say something... anything to let me know I'm not the only one who feels like this, that you want more of what happened last night. Not just making out, but all of it. The talking, the laughing, and getting to know one another. I stared at him for a moment, giving him a chance to magically read my mind and know what the hell I wanted him to say... to do.

He didn't say a word.

“No. I mean, thank you, but no, I'll be asleep most the day anyway, especially with the headache
I've
got.” I didn't want to give him any other opportunities to take care of me. “Thank you for a fun night. I really had a good time and I needed that.” I wrapped my arms around his neck for a hug and whispered in his ear. “Congratulations, I'm really proud of you.” I kissed him on the cheek and pulled away.

I needed to get behind closed doors. I was on the verge of crying or throwing up... or both. Stepping around him, I turned for the door and walked out without a glance back. I said last night I wanted Drew to kiss me without it meaning anything, but the truth was… it meant everything.

I felt sluggish, probably from spending so much time in the shower. I didn't even bother washing my body, not giving a crap what I looked like. I needed to feel the hot water on my skin and it was the perfect place to throw up and bawl my eyes out, all at the same time. I threw up so many times, I had nothing left in me. I was thankful no one was around to witness any of it. Something light, like crackers, or maybe some broth from some good ol’ Campbell’s chicken noodle soup would probably do the trick. Being sick and miserable, drained of all my energy was worse than being run over by a Mack truck. Disappointment weighed on my mind as I questioned my memory, trying to replay the events of last night. Was every word spoken, every gesture, touch, and kiss a figment of my imagination? Back and forth I went, trying to figure out if I was kidding myself and falling into sweet illusions. I was excited and adventurous with Drew last night, but couldn't help wondering if it was all a big disappointment to him now. What I thought he wanted, he obviously didn't want to remember. Maybe he finally realized he was wasting his time after all and would never let it happen again. Whatever was going on, I allowed myself the luxury to pout like a two-year-old who didn't get her way.

After coming to my senses, I threw on my pajamas and made my way to the kitchen to heat up a can of Campbell's soup. The hot pink Post-It note caught my eye when I opened the fridge and I paused to read it.
Oh shit!
I ripped the note off. I completely forgot about my date with Tyler tonight and I still had to swing by the dry cleaners to pick up my dress. From the way I was feeling, there was no way I felt up for it. I dug through my purse and hunted for Tyler's number on the card he gave me when I first asked him out, since my phone was still lying at the bottom of the pond.

I sat on the couch with my blanket snugly wrapped around me and slowly sipped the broth while I stared at the cordless phone beside me. I dreaded calling Tyler. Realizing now that I wanted Drew more than I let myself believe, I didn’t want to waste his time. I didn’t want to let him down either, especially if he went to the trouble of making reservations and getting all dressed up to take me out. But there was no way I was going out tonight. I picked up the phone and dialed his number.

“Hello?” he answered with uncertainty.

“Hi Tyler,
it’s Lilly,” I said in my less than upbeat voice.

“Oh, hey baby, what's up?” he chirped.

Hey baby? And what was with his “what's up'?
I wasn't some random chick he was talking to. “Hey. I'm so sorry to do this to you and I know it's really short notice, but I feel like I have the flu.” Technically, I wasn't lying. Hangovers shared the same symptoms.
“I'm not feeling up to it.”

“Oh man… Are you serious?” he grumbled.

“Yes, I'm terribly sorry. I feel horrible and I'd hate to
possibly
get you sick.” Okay, that was a lie. Unless he was having a bunch of margaritas and two bottles of wine, I'm sure he'd remain symptom-free.

“Yeah, okay, I get it.”

“Thank you for understanding, Tyler. I'll call you later.”

I barely got the words out of my mouth when he mumbled, “Sure,” and hung up.

I was sorry for standing him up, but it pissed me off a little that he was more concerned about missing our date than my well being. Whatever. I clunked the phone on the coffee table and finished eating my soup. Managing to keep it down was better than I expected. Turning on the TV, I settled onto the couch and wrapped up in a blanket. I dozed off and on. Every time I woke up, I knew I should have carried my butt to my comfy bed, but I was too tired to care.

Jolted awake by the knock on my door, I jumped up... too fast. My head felt woozy and I had to sit still a moment to get my bearings. I grinned as I walked towards the door, hoping that Drew couldn't stand leaving me alone like I was this morning, and was coming to check on me. Whether he still liked me romantically or not, it was nice to know that someone was concerned about me.

I opened the door with a smile, which immediately vanished into disappointment. “Tyler, what are you doing here?”

“Oh look, you're all smiles. Are you feeling better now? Or were you standing me up tonight?” he asked with a serious face.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, I'm only kidding,” he said, running his finger across my cheek. “I was in the area and thought I would check up on you.”

Yeah, right. That's why he had his gym clothes on and his hair was dripping wet. “You didn't have to come all the way over here from the gym. Calling would have sufficed.”

“Sure. I know. It wasn't a big deal.” He looked past my head into my apartment.