Page 6 of All Your Firsts

The echoing sound of my steps fills the room as I investigate the rest of the small guesthouse. The remaining stop on this tour is a cozy bedroom with a convenient en suite bathroom.

After shimmying out of my grass-stained jeans, I climb onto the bed, savoring its delightful warmth and cozy embrace.

I have just drifted off to sleep when a sudden, ear-piercing noise startles me awake. I remain frozen in place, debating whether it’s an intruder or simply a product of my own vivid imagination.

With narrowed eyes, I lean in closer to the door, my ears tuned in for any faint sounds. The room echoes with the chaotic clatter of objects being flung about, intensifying my feeling of being trapped without a way to escape.

I reach for my phone and remember how useless it is unless my aim and force can incapacitate someone, which isn’t likely. Shit.

Out of options, I resort to the most childish and stupid action possible. I place the blanket over my head and hold my breath.

The door slams open against the wall with a deafening crash, causing me to startle as something lands on the bed beside me. My scream is so piercing I’m convinced it carries all the way back to my parents in Chicago.

With a burst of energy and my fight-or-flight engaged, I tear the blankets from my body and leap out of bed. I make a beeline for the door, only to be halted in my tracks by a blinding light that engulfs the room, making me narrowly avoid a collision with a towering man.

Despite being of average height, I still have to crane my neck upward to meet his confused gaze.

Three

Rosie

“Fuck... what day is it?”

He looks down at me with a regretful expression on his face. This is weird because I should be the one regretting my choices right now.

I’m uncertain if the question is rhetorical or if he genuinely expects an answer.

“W-Wednesday or Thursday,” I stutter.

I don’t know this man, and from what I can see, I have no desire to get to know him. As he stands half naked, his body becomes a living art gallery, showcasing a myriad of tattoos that cover most of his skin.

Normally, I wouldn’t back down from any man, but in my half-asleep state, I can’t shake the feeling of vulnerability in this unfamiliar but supposedly safe place.

I’m going to murder Gage.

He looks me up and down with his bottom lip between his teeth, and that’s when I feel it.

The air hits my legs and exposed ass.

Shit.

I hurriedly yank down my short shirt, which barely extends an inch farther. I can’t help but feel both embarrassed and confused as I lock eyes with the man standing in front of me.

“What the hell, Vic!” A shrill shriek pierces through the air, prompting me to swiftly turn around. There, in the bed, I see a naked woman who doesn’t even bother to hide under the blankets I’m supposed to sleep in. “Who is she?”

He ignores her question and looks back at me. “Rosalinda?”

“Yeah,” I say, wondering why it’s a question. Is it common for him to have unfamiliar women sleeping in his bed without his knowledge? “And I go by Rosie.” I hate my full name. The only time it’s ever used is when my father yells at me about some invisible line I’ve crossed.

“You’re supposed to be in the main house, Rosie.”

“You’ll be sleeping in here, then?” I ask with a tight smile. If the guy wants to give me access to a full house while he sleeps here, who am I to argue with such a generous offer?

“Absolutely not. I’ll have the room next to yours.”

My smile vanishes.

“Are you serious?” the naked woman shrieks. Despite the squeaking, high-pitched tone coming from behind us, neither of us acknowledges the other person in the room. I’m not sure why he doesn’t, but I happen to be mortified by all of this.

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