She remembered most of last night…playing cards, watching TV, and yeah, probably drinking too much. She’d had restless dreams, dreams about sitting on Steve’s lap, playing with his hair, hugging and kissing him. He’d kissed her back, so hard that she felt a twinge of arousal even now, with her cloying headache.
Wait, had they been dreams…or…
Oh gosh, maybe she’d really done those things. Had Steve kissed her or was it a dream? She touched her lips, like she could find the answer that way. Did they feel rougher than usual? Softer? They felt normal. Her thoughts were a jumble of memories—laughter, snuggling, playing, cuddly socks. Kissing.
God, had they both been so drunk that they…?
Well, she was completely dressed, down to her fuzzy socks, so they probably hadn’t had drunken, blackout sex. It was awful, not remembering exactly what had happened. Steve was a great guy, a great friend, and this was embarrassing. She closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh.
In the silence, she heard the opening notes of a Bach fugue from the direction of Steve’s bedroom and forced herself to a sitting position, pulling the blanket around her. His bedroom door was closed, so the melodies were faint, but still familiar.
She pulled in her legs and rested her head back on the cushions. Steve had an affinity for baroque music, with its bold motifs and sweeping scales. Now and again he made a mistake, but not very often. Confidence had always been his best musical feature. He wasn’t neurotic like Jonathan, or careful like Ethan. He swept his bow over the notes with easy intonation and phrasing, and by the end of the third movement, her headache was almost gone.
She also had to pee.
Eventually, she was going to have to face him, and ask what had happened the night before. Something must have happened, or she wouldn’t have had the dreams she had. They wouldn’t have been so vivid. Or real.
She got up from the couch like a cat burglar and tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom, but it wasn’t really possible to pee quietly after the night of drinking she’d had, so she gritted her teeth and finished the pee storm as quickly as she could. She washed her hands, fluffed her bed-head hair, and brushed her teeth using some travel-sized toiletries she found in a drawer.
When she came out, Steve was still practicing in his room, so she went to the living room window and looked out at the world around his apartment. There was so much snow…blizzard dump levels of snow.
So much for sneaking out and heading home.
This was super dumb. Why was she anxious? It was just Steve. So what if she’d drunkenly come onto him? She regularly slept with the other two guys in their quartet and Steve never held it against her.
Held it against her. Steve had been against her last night. She was sure of it. At least, her body was. The memories pushing through her fading hangover were too detailed to be real. She’d straddled his lap and felt his erection against her. Last she remembered, she’d been asking him obnoxious, prying questions about his sexual fetishes.
Okay, she’d been a rude drunk and made him uncomfortable when he wasn’t even able to take her home and get away from her. The only way to handle it was to apologize.
She went to his room and cracked open the door, not wanting to knock and disturb his playing. He looked up, acknowledging her and welcoming her in one friendly glance, which was so Steve-like it made her heart ache. Of course he wouldn’t be pissed at her, no matter how obnoxious she’d been. He’d never held a grudge, not that she could remember, even when Jonathan bossed him around like a total asshole.
“Don’t stop,” she mouthed, sitting on the edge of his bed. He was still in pajamas too, which made her feel less slovenly. She knew the piece he was playing, and her fingers moved on the bed as if on an invisible fretboard, playing her second violin part. After a few more minutes, the challenging piece ended and Steve lowered his bow.
“Good job,” she said.
“Thank you.” Was his smile a bit strained? “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Okay. A little embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed? Why?”
She felt a flush rising in her cheeks. “I don’t remember everything, but I’m thinking I didn’t behave with much dignity last night.”
He laughed as he loosened his bow strings and set the bow on his music stand. “I blame myself. If I’d only had beer, you wouldn’t have drunk so much. Anyway, no harm done. Would you like some breakfast?” He glanced at his watch. “Or lunch?”
She gratefully accepted some freezer waffles with strawberries and whipped cream, and some coffee from his fancy espresso machine. Steve reached for the cheese balls and ate them along with his waffles, making her cringe.