Moaning, she rolled her face into the pillow. Maybe if she held her breath long enough, she could expire before she ever had to face him again. What in the world had led her to tell him that of all things?

And one of the men she’d been complaining about had been his brother, for God’s sake. “Oh, please… Take me. Take me right now. It’s been a good life, but I need to be put out of my own misery.”

She said the prayer and then waited for action. When nothing happened, she let out another moan and tried to remember how their conversation had gone from mutual sharing about what had gone wrong in their respective relationships to her telling him that.

It was his fault. He’d been far too sweet and willing to listen. He’d made it way too easy for her to spill her guts to him.

Taking one of the extra pillows from the bed, she placed it over her face and hugged it tightly with both arms. Was it even possible to suffocate oneself? She’d like to find out.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Adam. No. Please, God, make him go away! Where had he come from?

He yanked the pillow off her face. “What’re you doing?”

“Hiding from the sunlight.” She couldn’t look at him. She just couldn’t. He knew…things…about her that no one else knew. She’d told him her deepest, darkest secret. “What’re you doing here? How’d you get in?” As she said the words, the scent of coffee permeated her hangover and made her mouth water, which was a welcome relief from the dryness.

“I never left.”

“Oh. So…you…”

“Fell asleep.”

“Where’d the coffee come from?”

“Downstairs.”

“How did you get back in?”

“I took your key. Hid it in my boxer shorts.”

She couldn’t help the laugh the comment drew from her, even if she still wanted to die from the embarrassment of oversharing.

He held out a cup to her. “Since I don’t know how you like it, I took a chance with cream and sugar. Want some?”

Desperately. “Yes, please. Thanks.” Since she probably had Godzilla breath from the tequila, the coffee couldn’t make it worse, could it? And was it at all fair that he was drop-dead gorgeous in the morning? His hair was sexily mussed, while hers was plastered to her skull. The whiskers on his jaw only made him more ridiculously handsome than he was when freshly shaven. The DNA gods had blessed him and his brothers with far more than their fair share of sexiness. That was for sure.

Coffee in hand, he sat on the bed next to her, pillows at his back, and stretched out his legs.