Who the hell turned on the lights? I roll over, hoping to block out the insane brightness that penetrates my eyelids and shriek when I hit the hard ground.

Ouch.

“You okay?” A deep raspy voice asks and my eyes pop open, only to slam shut again.

Shit. Where the hell am I?

I lift one lid and look around. Why am I outside? My eye finds the source of the voice, and I jump. Noah is staring at me and has a huge grin on his lips. His hair is pushed to the side, and he’s sitting in the chair next to mine with his knee up, sipping from a coffee cup.

How in the hell is the man this perfect in the morning?

The morning? Wait, it’s the morning. And last night, I was . . .

Oh dear God in Heaven, please tell me I didn’t do anything stupid. Then I remember the tequila shots. Dancing. Swimming . . . maybe?

Another memory, or maybe a dream, comes forward. His eyes. I was so close to him, thinking about how much I wanted to get lost in his eyes. Imagining his lips against mine and wondering if he thought I was special. My entire body was alive for the first time in forever. I can almost recall the way his fingers were digging into my back, but there’s no way that was real.

Noah clears his throat, and I look up. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m not sure there are words to describe it,” I say and clutch my head.

“Here.” He shifts to grab another mug and then hands it to me. “You probably need that.”

I lift my arm and the blanket falls, exposing my bare skin. How the hell did I lose my clothes? This just keeps getting worse. My hands tremble as I check to be sure I have my bathing suit on, and then I release a sigh of relief. At least I’m not naked.

Time to get some answers about what the hell happened last night. “I remember wearing my romper yesterday. Any idea when that came off?” I ask as I take the cup.

Noah smiles, and my heart skips. He’s really unbelievably good looking.

“I took it off.”

I spit my coffee across the chair. “You what?” I yell.

He laughs as I wipe the liquid from my chin, place the cup on the ground, and wrap the blanket around me. I don’t think I could actually embarrass myself any more at this point.

“You were drunk.” He moves his legs over the side so he can turn to face me. “I mean, really drunk.”

“So you took my clothes off? You thought that was okay?” I’m pissed now. I get that Mr. Hollywood big shot gets what he wants, but taking my damn clothes off is not okay. I’m sorry, but I clearly wasn’t in my right mind. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Noah rubs his forehead as I wait for an answer. “You fell in the pool, Kristin. You were passed out and snoring as I carried you out.”

“No,” I gasp. “I what?”

The pool. The way I wanted to kiss him, it wasn’t a dream. It was real.

“I didn’t think you’d want to fall asleep in your soaking wet clothes.”

Realization slaps me upside the head. I was a drunken idiot and he got stuck caring for me. I pull the blanket over my head and wonder if I can disappear inside here. “I am so sorry,” I say without showing my face.

Noah’s deep laughter grows closer. I feel his fingers touch my arm a second before he pulls the blanket so he can see me. “I didn’t mind.”

“You didn’t?” I ask.

No one can convince me that I wasn’t a hot mess. I’m in my bathing suit, on the patio, and have a killer hangover. All signs point to a very mortifying night. One that I was supposed to be working on learning about Noah.

How stupid can I be?

His green eyes soften, and he keeps his hand on me. “No. I really didn’t.”

My pulse quickens as we stare at each other. This can’t be happening to me. There is no way that the emotions Noah is stirring in me are real. I’m married still. I’ve just left my husband, and yet, right now, I’m thinking of how much I liked Noah touching me. I’m wondering, if I leaned up a little, would it feel good to kiss him?

It has to be the remnants of the alcohol. There’s no other explanation.

Noah shifts, breaking the connection.

“Thank you for making sure I didn’t drown.” I attempt to laugh, but it sounds off.

Noah’s voice turns playful. “I enjoyed camping, too.”

What? I don’t camp. Who the hell—

“Oh, God!” I close my eyes and try to form some way to get out of this without needing an identity change. Nope. There’s no other option. “I’m going to crawl in a hole and die now,” I mutter.

“I especially liked the interview,” Noah adds on. “I will say, though, as a reporter, you didn’t ask the important questions.”

This is why I don’t like to drink. I can only imagine the crap that came out of my mouth. I already know I clung to him like a barnacle on the hull of a ship, why not make it worse?

“Please, make it stop.” I grip the sides of my head, praying it’ll explode to relieve the pressure.

His hand touches my back and slowly rubs. “Kristin?”

“Yes?” I don’t look up.

“Look at me,” Noah demands.

I lift my head, and he leans closer. “I know you probably regret last night, but I don’t. Not one minute. It also means we’ll have to spend the day together so you can really get your story. Funny who has the dirt on who now, huh?”

Noah stands, his tall frame blocking the sun for a second before I watch him walk inside.

I don’t know what to think. Everything inside my head is bouncing around, causing shooting pains as it moves. Thinking hurts.

Drinking sucks.

Heather is dead to me.

I lie back and start to laugh. This would be my life. I would be the one who has a job to do, can’t talk around him because he’s that freaking hot, and gets drunk. However, I don’t even do that half-assed. Nope, I go balls to the wall and get so hammered I fall into a pool and pass out right in front of the guy I’m supposed to be getting the scoop on.

Oh, how the article has changed now.

The one thing I’ve noticed in my hazy mind is that he didn’t look at me as if I was a drunken idiot when I woke up from God knows what I did last night. In fact, his gaze was full of tenderness. Noah didn’t make fun of me or make me feel stupid, which is what I expected. It would have been like any other time I made an error and had it flung back in my face.

Doesn’t change the fact that I made a total ass of myself.

The door slides open, and I expect to see Noah returning with his glowing tan and perfect hair, but it’s Heather. She looks exactly how I feel. Black streaks are smeared on her face, her hair is in a messy bun, and she’s sporting her sunglasses.

“How you doing?” I ask before I sit up, grab my mug, and gulp my coffee.

“Dude, how much did we drink?” She flops into the chair Noah vacated and rolls to her side.

“Way more than we should.”

Heather pulls her shades down and peeks over the rim. “What the hell happened to you? Are you naked?”

I wrap the blanket a little tighter. “No, but according to Noah, it was an interesting night.”

“Did you get your interview?”

I glare at her. “Nope. I was so hammered that I fell in the pool . . . with my clothes on. I think I tried to kiss him, but I could be drunk dreaming that part. I know I attempted an interview and remember saying something about . . .” I drop my head in my hands.

I did not do that. No, I couldn’t have said all that.

“About?” She prods with a hint of enjoyment in her voice.

“Being a good lay,” I mutter each word tentatively.

Heather bursts out laughing. She holds her stomach as she goes on and on. “You didn’t! Oh, God. You would, Kris. I love you, but you’re such a spaz-ass.”

“I would’ve been professional if my best friend hadn’t gotten me sloshed.”

Then I recall the way I couldn’t even look at him when he walked into the kitchen. I was practically drooling on myself as I sputtered out one-word responses. That is what caused me to take a stupid shot. I figured if I could get myself under control, I could manage it. Apparently, I was seriously mistaken.

“I wasn’t holding a liquor bottle to your head. You did that all on your own.” She pushes her glasses back up.

“Thanks for reminding me,” I grumble. “I can salvage this.”

She snorts and takes the coffee from me. “How?”

“I haven’t figured that part out.”

There is an advantage to this, I know a little more about him. Noah is a sweet guy. Considering he didn’t leave me out here cold and wet all night, I could also add on caretaker as well. I can work with that. If he were an asshole, he’d have left me to fend for myself. The memories come in small, random bursts. His smile, his laugh, the feel of his big, hard . . . I gasp.

“What?” Heather asks, sitting up and looking around.

“It’s fine. I just remembered something,” I say quickly.

“Please tell me you didn’t do anything with him.” She gives me a pointed stare.

I shake my head. “Nothing happened.”

“Not that it would be a bad thing,” Heather clarifies. “Noah is a good guy, and . . . you know how I feel about Scott. Plus, rebound sex is the best sex.”

I groan, taking my coffee back. “Yes, I know how you all feel about my worthless husband.”

I’ve never said anything to my friends, but it was incredibly difficult knowing what they thought of him. They were right about a lot, I can admit that much, but I hated it. Having to bring him places, where he wasn’t truly welcome and hoping they’d be nice, was almost too much at times.

When the people you love hate the person you choose, it’s like being torn in half.

Scott complained about my friends constantly and tried to drive a wedge between us.

Thankfully, he was never able to sever the bond we share.

“You know I would’ve put up with him for the rest of my life if he made you happy, right?” Heather says as she grips my hand.

“I know.”

“There is no man who will ever break us.”

I smile and sigh. “Four chicks?”

“Four chicks who can never pick the dicks,” Heather finishes the joke.

We always joked as kids that no dick would come between the chicks. I’d say the joke held up better than we could’ve ever imagined. Friends for over twenty years who were still as close as we were in high school.

I laugh as an anvil slams against my skull. “I should get home,” I practically cry as I press my temples.

I want to sleep.

And drink ten gallons of water to rid myself of this hangover.

“Are you going to register for the marathon today?”

My head falls to the side and I give her a blank look. “I’m not running a marathon today. I’m not moving from this chair if I can avoid it.”

“Kris, it’s not today,” she complains. “It’s in a few weeks and you promised this would be our thing. That we’d run in Steph’s honor.”

“Can’t our thing be napping?” I think that’s a much better thing to have. “I’m sure Stephanie would’ve supported this.”

In fact, that’s my plan for today since I’m kid-less for the first time.

Heather rolls her eyes. “I promise not to call Nicole if that’ll help persuade you. Lord knows if she hears about you falling in the pool and sleeping on the lawn chair, she’s going to have ammo for a year.”

She wouldn’t dare. “You better not tell her.”

“You better not bail on me.”

I shake my head, regretting it instantly. I need to get out of here before she convinces me to do some other random shit. “You were my favorite. Now, not so much.”

She laughs. “I’ll live with the guilt.”

“I’ll remind you more often.”

“I look forward to it,” Heather replies as I get to my feet.

I toss the damp towel on her as I pass by, and she laughs. “I hate you,” I say with sarcasm.

“I love you, too. Say goodbye to Noah!”

I internally groan as I enter the house. If there’s a God, he’ll let me get out of this house without running into Noah. My feet hit the ice-cold tile floor, and I remember just how unclothed I am. However, I’m not going back out for the damn romper. It’s Florida and bathing suits should be part of the acceptable daily wardrobe.

The coast is clear as I start to move toward the front door. I get to the handle and am about to turn it when my hopes of getting away undetected vanish.

“Running away, are you?” Noah’s raspy voice stops me.

Damn it. I clearly have no luck.

My head thumps against the door, and I close my eyes. “You caught me.”

His low chuckle rumbles through the foyer. “I wanted to make our date.”

Umm. “Date?”

“You owe me,” Noah says as he descends the stairs.

My head drops a little to the left, and my hand finds my hip. “Oh, I owe you now?”

“I did fall head over heels for you . . . into a pool.”

His lips turn into a cocky grin, and I can’t help but laugh. “Yes, you did.”

“I think that at least buys me dinner.” Noah’s shoulders rise and fall, and he is standing so close that I have to tilt my head back.

I study his eyes, the way the shamrock color swirls with a seafoam color in the center. Noah moves a little closer, making me lean back so I’m pressed against the cool wood. I itch to touch him again, to remember the way his skin feels beneath my fingers, but I won’t.

“Well?” he asks, leaning in so there’s almost no space between us.

Dinner with him is a bad idea.

My lips part, and I speak. “You owe me an interview.”

That was not what I was going to say.

“Is that a yes?”

There are two choices. I’m so stupid and know exactly which one I’ll take.

“Fine. Dinner—for work only.” I tack on the last part, hoping to save myself a little dignity.

Noah’s chest touches mine, just a brush of his body against mine, and then he steps back, leaving me freezing. “I’ll see you tonight at eight.”

“For work,” I clarify again.

“Sure, sweetheart. Work it is.”

I may have just fallen in love with my job.