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Gauntlet: Chapter 6

Clio woke up with a throbbing headache and a queasy stomach.

“Ungh,” she groaned into the pillows. At least they were soft and silky and cool to the touch–the bed was more comfortable than she remembered, even if she had no recollection of finding her way to it. She hadn’t drunk that much, had she?

She knew she was a lightweight when it came to alcohol, and it had been awhile. And she remembered enough of the night before to know that any unusual consumption was completely justified. Between Angela and Chance…and God, there’d been dancing.

She moaned again, swearing to herself that she would never touch another glass of wine. If only her head would stop pounding.

“There’s water on the bedside table.”

Clio yelped and flew halfway across the bed in a flurry of sheets and pillows. It took a few seconds for her heart to drop from her throat and take up a frantic workout in her ribcage.

In that time, she noted several things: she was not in her bed, but apparently in August’s. She wore nothing but an oversized, men’s button-down shirt, as well as her bracelet and the necklace Britt had given her. August appeared to be completely naked, though she couldn’t be sure because of the covers pulled up to the top of his hips. And she deduced that the town included a well-equipped gym, because August’s trim body was very nicely sculpted.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” August smiled and swept back the covers. Clio went pink, but a pair of pajama pants hung low on the sharp curve of his hip bones. He came around the bed and handed her a glass of water and a few pills. “Aspirin.”

“Thank you.” She swallowed the pills and drank deeply, finishing the water in one draught. It made her feel marginally better.

She didn’t want to ask the question that loomed large in her thoughts. She didn’t even think she could. Not that she would be exactly upset if…if something had happened. But she would have liked to remember it.

She wanted to bury her face in the pillows again and scream. This was mortifying.

“I hope you enjoyed last night as much as I did.”

Clio felt the flush bloom on her face and then spread farther. Oh, God, they had.

“Seeing you in action was an eye-opener. I didn’t think you’d be so aggressive.

Clio stared at him in shock, sure that her face was absolutely scarlet by then. She could feel the heat coming off of it. “What do you mean?”

“So you don’t remember?” August tilted his head and studied her.

“No.” Clio shook her head in embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be,” August said cheerfully. “Watching you put Angela in her place was the best entertainment I’ve had in a while. She deserved it for being ridiculously rude to you.” His grin turned into a full-fledged laugh at Clio’s dumbfounded expression. “Nothing happened between us, if that’s what you’re worried about. Well,” he amended, “not much. You said you would sleep on the floor when we made it as far as my room.”

Clio groaned.

“It was cute,” August cooed. “I had to force some water and aspirin into you. Your hangover could be a lot worse.”

“I’m so sorry.” Clio dropped her face into her hands. “Really, this isn’t like me at all.”

“Eh, I’ve gotten shit-faced once or twice. Chance could tell you some good stories.”

“Is Chance hungover, too?” Clio asked with perverse hope.

August snorted. “He’s no fun at all these days. He’s probably been up since 6 A.M. doing something productive and/or responsible.”

Clio giggled.

“That’s better.” A finger slipped under her chin and tilted her heated face up. “You do get awful cuddly when you’re drunk.”

Cuddly. Clio breathed an internal sigh of relief. She could live with cuddly, but she was a little disappointed. She would’ve liked to remember that, too.

“So…Angela,” Clio tried. “Is she your ex?”

“No.” Definite amusement filled August’s voice. “You don’t need to worry about her. She won’t bother you again.” His hand traveled down to brush soothingly over her exposed collarbone, and then to toy with the metal die that rested near the hollow of her throat.

Clio felt a little weak-kneed, and not because of her hangover. She ducked her head.

“I hope I didn’t say anything too nasty. I can’t remember much past dessert.”

“I think you’re too sweet to say anything really bad.”

The cheesy sentiment made Clio roll her eyes. “I do remember calling Chance an ass.”

“Yeah, but that’s true, and he knows it. No harm done there.”

Clio laughed. It turned into a fit of giggles when her stomach rumbled loudly.

“Hungry?” August asked. “If you think you can handle it, there’s breakfast out in the dining hall. Coffee, too.”

“Oh, yes, please.”

August gestured to one of her dresses, hanging off the door of an armoire. “I had that brought from your room,” he explained. “Your other clothes are off being cleaned.”

As usual, she felt a pang of discomfort at the massive dress. “I feel like an actor in a period drama,” she murmured.

“‘All the world’s a stage,’” August drawled. “Embrace the drama.”

“I’m not sure I like drama.”

“You were pretty dramatic last night. You obviously just need the right motivation.” His brilliantly white teeth flashed in a saucy smile.

Clio groaned. “I wish I could remember.”

“Are you really sure about that?”

Clio thought about Angela’s razor-sharp nails. “Um…maybe not.”

“I could help jog your memory.”

“How?” Clio asked suspiciously.

“By recreating some of the events of last night?” The look in his eyes was unmistakable, despite Clio’s relative lack of experience. Her stomach fluttered.

“Which…ones?” Clio’s voice petered out as August sat down next to her. His thigh brushed up against hers. “I thought you said we didn’t…”

“Oh, we didn’t do that, but like I said…you were very cuddly.”

One hand slid up her bare thigh, while another slid beneath her collar and pushed it off her shoulder. Clio trembled when his thumb brushed the soft skin of her inner thigh. They obviously had entirely different ideas of the meaning of cuddly–not that she was complaining.

“Is it coming back to you?” August murmured, his breath leaving her skin moist and warm where he traced a path from her shoulder to her throat.

“No…no, it–mmph…”

He kissed her as he twisted around and pulled her on top of him; his back hit the mattress with a gentle thud. He gripped her knees and daringly split them over his hips, his smiling lips nipping at hers.

Clio’s mouth opened to his, and her hands unconsciously fell onto his bare chest. Oh…they must have kissed a lot the night before, because this felt incredible–not awkward like the garden, when she’d been too nervous to really let go. That had been exciting in its own way, but it was nothing like this. Dear God in heaven, August could kiss.

She could definitely get used to this.

Gauntlet: Chapter 6 (yowza)
Continued in Chapter 7.

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