“See anything you like?” He grinned.

“Oh God,” I moaned, pulling the pillow over my face.

Desperately, I tried to recall the events of the previous night. Namely, how the hell had I ended up in Heath’s bed and did they include me having sex with my stupid ex-best friend? I rolled my memory back as far as it would go, but last night was nothing but a blur.

Heath just wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into the warm contour of his body. It felt so good I didn’t even struggle.

Too good.

“Anyone ever tell you how much you wriggle in your sleep?” he murmured into the back of my neck. Magical sensations shot along my skin at the warmth of his breath on my neck and the closeness of his firm body pressed up against mine. His arm held me close, his gentle fingers sweeping across my belly as his hand dropped to the sheet.

My headache dissipated as a thousand pleasures tore threw me. Every nerve in my body tingled.

“Heath?”

He shifted next to me, the warmth of his body engulfing me.

“Mmmm?” he murmured into my hair.

“Where are my clothes?”

“You don’t remember?”

My mind reached back as far as it could go. Nope. Nothing.

“Why am I not wearing them?”

His lips curled into a smile against my neck. “Think about it … it’ll come back to you.”

“Oh God … I … we … didn’t…?”

I felt him rise up onto an elbow and when I turned to look at him, he was smiling.

“Relax H-bomb, your virtue is still intact.”

I felt dumb for having to ask. And dumber for actually asking. But it wasn’t every day I woke up hung over and semi-naked in bed with a guy every woman wanted between her thighs.

“Believe me baby—” He fluffed his pillow and lay back down again. “If we’d gone there together, you wouldn’t need me to remind you.”

His arrogant charm pushed through my hangover and I laughed until my throbbing brain shut me up and I pressed my hands over my eyes.

He pulled me back into him, his bare chest and stomach warm against my back, as his arms secured around my waist. He sighed and I melted against him, my entire body relaxed and content.

Slept crept up on me and when I opened my eyes four hours had passed and I was alone. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. It was ridiculous that I could feel so content lying amongst the tangled sheets of the biggest player in town. Yet I was.

I covered my face with my hands. I shouldn’t feel so relaxed here.

When the door crept open I sat up. Heath came in carrying a glass of water.

“How are you feeling?” he asked handing me the water.

“I’m fine.” I raised the glass in a toast. “Thanks.”

He bounced onto the bed, lay on his side and flopped his arms over my legs.

“So what do you want to do today?”

“Do?” I shrugged. “I should probably go home. “

I ran my hands through my hair, shaking it loose over my shoulders.

“Stay here. We can hang out. Chill on the couch and watch a couple of movies.” He looked up at me, his eyes soft as he grinned. It was no wonder women fell over themselves for his attention. How could I turn down that face?

“Will there be popcorn and ice-cream?”

His smile widened. “Baby, I’m talking about the full cinema experience.”

“Then how can I refuse?” I said, laughing at his enthusiasm.

“I’m hoping you can’t.”

Then I remembered I had work the next day. “I have work in the morning.”

“I can get you there. I’ll take you on the bike.”

“I’ll need a change of clothes.”

He sat up. “We’ll go now and then grab some lunch.”

I cocked my head to the side as I looked at him. “Why do you want me to stay so much?”

He shrugged. “I’m not use to a girl cuddling me in my bed. I guess I kinda liked it.”

“That’s ’cos after you have sex with them, you’re showing them the door before they even have a chance to put their panties back on.”

His eyebrows pressed together into a frown and I thought it was because I’d just reminded him of what a player he was. But he must have been thinking about the past week because he said, “I’m sorry about how I acted. How I avoided you.”

“So you admit it. You were avoiding me.”

“I don’t know what I was doing. I just thought it’d be easier …” He trailed off and frowned again. His eyes dropped to his big hands where he was absentmindedly playing with his thumbnail. “Whatever it was, it was dumb. And I’m sorry.”

I knew we should discuss the night I picked him up from the hospital. Namely, about the kiss in his lounge room and how I’d practically begged him to take it further. But last night—what I didn’t know about last night—was seriously playing havoc with my head. It had left my head murky and I couldn’t remember a thing.

Despite my current state of hangover hell, I still had the sense to see that a serious conversation about our relationship was best left until I could think straight. But it wasn’t just that. Because if I were honest, the simple truth was: I had no idea what I wanted anymore. And I needed time to think.

Heath Dillinger was breaking my steely resolve.

And it terrified me.

“Apology accepted.” I took his hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry I called you an asshole.”

He looked up. “You didn’t.”

I grinned. “Oh, yes I did.”

He chuckled. “Well, it was deserved.”

“No more being mean to me, okay?”

“You have my word.” He smiled. “Unless you start with the name calling again. So was it just asshole? Or were there more creative adjectives?”

“I can be very creative.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Now you’re just teasing.”

I smiled and stretched, then remembering my lack of clothes pulled the sheet around me self-consciously. “I need a shower.”

Heath leapt off the bed and grabbed a fresh pair of boxers and a t-shirt from the dresser, throwing them on the bed. “You can wear these while your clothes are drying. I’ll make us a coffee while you shower.”

Standing lathered in soap under the warm spray of the shower, I couldn’t help but smile at Heath’s kindness. He had a big heart. I wondered if those girls with their false eyelashes, long nails and short skirts, knew what a great guy he really was under all that showmanship he presented onstage. I wondered if they knew he was always smiling, always friendly, always thinking of others first. Or if they even cared. Onstage he was a magnificent creature who soaked panties and set hearts on fire; offstage he was one of the nicest guys I had ever encountered.

He made me feel things I couldn’t explain. But I would be leaving soon. My life wasn’t in California. There was no point in starting anything that I couldn’t stop when I returned to Georgia. And something told me if I started anything with this guy, I wouldn’t be able to stop. He was too much to love. And I was on a time limit.

The spray of water felt good on my head and I sighed.

After a thorough shampoo, I found a tub of conditioner to run through my hair and took time soaping up my body. My hangover was subsiding and I was starting to feel better with every passing minute. The shower was bringing me to life again when suddenly small fragments of the night before swung before my closed lids.

He broke the surface and rose out of the water, his thick, muscular body tanned and glittering with beads of water. His wet jeans hung low on his hips, the wet fabric of his t-shirt clinging to every curve, every ripple of muscle on his torso. He turned to face me and I could see the wide expanse of his broad shoulders, so round and large beneath his shirt. Big hands ran through his wet hair and his tattoos moved as if they were alive over strong forearms as his muscles flexed. But it was his face, that beautiful, amazing face that caught the breath in my throat. Wet lips broke into a dazzling smile, as blue eyes sparkled at me through dark lashes.