Delirious Love

Chapter Thirteen

I woke up to a throbbing headache. I groan and rubbed my temples. I feel like shit. I'm never drinking again.

Said by every person who is hungover.

I take a look around and discover that I'm not at home; instead, I'm at Ansel's house? In an attempt to recall what happened last night, I think back. After a few minutes of contemplation, memories surface. I begin to remember how I acted on the phone and with him in person yesterday. Since we're on semi-friendly terms, I felt obligated to apologize for my actions.

I recall our discussion on my 'punishments' from last night. That alone was enough to make me flush just thinking about it. I try not to think about how he makes me feel. Looking around the bed, I notice that Ansel isn't there.

Getting out of his bed, I ignore my pounding head. A table with two white pills and a bottle of water sits beside his bed. I take the pills with the water, regardless of what they are. Ansel wouldn't leave out addictive drugs for me to take. Knowing him, it's probably ibuprofen.

Before entering his bathroom, I go into his closet and pull out another long shirt and sweatpants. I help myself and hop into his shower. I turn on all of the showerheads, enjoying the sensation of the water pressure on my skin. Maybe another time I'll explore more with them. I laugh at that thought.

I notice his body wash, shampoo, and conditioner in his shower. Thank the lord that he doesn't use 4 in 1. I grab his shampoo, putting a glob onto my hand before putting it into my hair, thoroughly washing it. Taking his conditioner, I do the same thing but concentrate on my ends more. When I'm done with my hair, I grab his body wash and wash my entire body with it.

I hope he doesn't mind.

I exit the shower and grab one of the towels he had left out. I walk over to the sink and begin hunting for a fresh toothbrush. When I find one in a brand new pack, I pull it out and brush my teeth, wanting to get rid of any traces of alcohol. In case Ansel returns to his room, I decide to get dressed in the bathroom. I go commando because I didn't want to wear my dirty underwear. Putting on his sweats and shirt, I look at myself in the mirror.

At least, I don't look dead.

I return to his room and place the towel and his shirt in his hamper for dirty clothes. Wanting to speak to Ansel, I go seeking for him. I wanted to yell his name, but I didn't want to make my headache worse. The living room was the first place I looked, but he wasn't there. Next, I go into the kitchen and, bingo, there he is, shirtless, scrolling on his phone. I notice a dish next to him that hasn't been touched.

"Good morning, Emory," He says. "I hope you got a good night's sleep; I made you breakfast and left some ibuprofen on the table to help with your headache." He says this, making me feel horrible all over again. We weren't anything, so I can't really get mad at him for leaving me on seen.

"Listen, about last night, I just wanted to apologize. I was overreacting about the situation, I have a tendency to overthink things. Are we okay?" I ask him, hoping that I didn't ruin anything with him. He is a good man who goes out of his way to make sure I'm well.

"Don't be sorry, darling. Don't invalidate your feelings; you had every right to feel the way you did. Yesterday was all on me. I'm still not used to this whole thing we have going on." He tells me. I was taken back. I wasn't used to men assuring me that it was okay to have certain feelings. I smile and take the seat next to him, where the untouched plate was placed. He had made me an omelette with toast.

"I appreciate the pills as well as the breakfast. Also, I hope it's okay that I used your stuff in the shower." I tell him, clearing the air.

"I love that you smell like me. Besides, what's mine is yours, love." He tells me, smiling while scanning my outfit.

While glancing down at my lips, he licks his. I wish I could just kiss him right now. All of this angst is driving me insane, and he's doing nothing to help. Plus, what he said last night still isn't helping my situation.

I'm going to do something about that when I get home.

"So I've been thinking about going on a real date next weekend," he says. "On Friday, I'll take you out, and you can pack a bag and stay with me until Sunday." He smirks as he informs me. I'm curious as to what he has planned.

"I don't see why not. I'd love to go on a date with you. Just text me what I'm supposed to wear." I tell him. Last time, he told me to wear whatever I wanted, but I'm hoping for more information this time. I don't want to go out in public looking like shit while standing next to a sexy hunk.

"You won't need to bring your car; I'll pick you up and drop you off." He tells me.

You don't have to tell me twice. Driving is not something I enjoy doing. You see, driving is more about paying attention to other drivers than it is about paying attention to yourself.

Other drivers can be ignorant on the roads and create accidents, which can cause you to be involved in them. I just try to stay away from it as much as possible.

"Alright, that sounds like a plan," I say. To be honest, I'm simply glad we're going out next weekend. I'm not sure I can wait; the anticipation is making my stomach spin.

I finish my food and place it in the sink, grabbing the sponge, scrubbing it with soap, and then washing it. I rinse it once it's clean before grabbing the rag to dry both the plate and fork. When I turn back, I see Ansel with a glum expression on his face.

"Where should I put this?" I ask him, having no idea where he keeps his dishes. He stands up and takes the plate and fork from my grip, placing them where they belong. I sigh and roll my eyes. He is so ridiculous. I can't even clean without him becoming grumpy.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" He says. His face is as hard as a stone. I couldn't tell how he felt or what he was thinking. I lower my head to escape his stare. Knowing how he feels about me rolling my eyes, I scold myself.

Why didn't you just turn around and roll your eyes? That way he wouldn't have seen. A little laugh escaped my lips. I gulp and look up, realizing that I had laughed too loudly. My mind is getting me in trouble.

"I did it because I thought it was funny that you didn't want me to do anything." I try to justify myself, but I know it won't work with Ansel. He is clearly stubborn.

He approaches me and it causes me to back up, not in fear, but in anticipation of what he will do. I realized that I couldn't back up anymore, I'm cornered. He raises his hand and rubs my cheek before sliding a few curly strands behind my ear.

"Don't you think this weekend will be a blast?" He asked me.

This made me confused. Totally not what I expected him to say. My brows furrowed. Maybe he's not so mad after all. He leans in closer to my face, his nose practically brushing mine. I close my eyes as he leans in. Once my eyes were closed for a moment and I felt no lips, I opened them. He had backed up. With a smirk on his face, he was just staring down at me.

He was well aware of what he was doing to me.