Page 45 of Wild Tangled Hearts

"I suggest you back off right now," Alex warns through gritted teeth, his eyes locked onto thenot-so-cuteguy. "She doesn't want to go anywhere with you."

The guy, caught off guard by Alex's swift intervention, tries to save face. He stammers, "Hey, man, I was just trying to help her. She looked like she needed it."

But Alex isn't buying it. In a swift move, he delivers a powerful punch to the guy's gut. The force of the blow leaves the guy gasping for breath, collapsing to the ground in agony. He crawls away, whimpering, muttering curses.

Alex turns back to me, his expression softening from anger to concern. "You okay?" he asks, offering me a steadying hand.

I nod, tears welling in my eyes, grateful for his timely intervention. "Yeah," I whisper, still trembling from the encounter. I want to go home. But before I can do anything else, my stomach revolts, and I lurch forward, vomiting on the pavement.

Alex is quick to react, holding my hair back and rubbing my back gently as I empty my stomach. It's embarrassing, but I'm grateful for his unshakable presence. When it's finally over, I feel even weaker, unable to walk.

“Oh god,” I moan, leaning against him.

He hoists me up gently, cradling me in his arms like I'm weightless. I'm only vaguely aware of him carrying me. My eyes flutter open just enough to catch a glimpse of someone else — it's Hal, Kimmy's fiancé. Alex is talking to him, filling him in on what happened and reassuring him that he's taking me home safely.

As I drift in and out of consciousness, I hear Alex's voice saying, "Let her friends know she's okay," and I'm overcome with a sense of gratitude that he's looking out for me. Then, everything fades into a hazy blur as I surrender to the darkness.

I awaken to the relentless assault of a pounding headache, my consciousness emerging from the depths of slumber like a ship navigating through dense, murky waters. My thoughts are trapped in a thick, disorienting fog, a shroud that blankets my mind and obscures any trace of clarity. The world around me feels distant and hazy as if I'm observing it through a veil of uncertainty.

Every movement sends a jolt of discomfort through my skull, a reminder of the revelry and indulgence from the night before. The events leading to this state are fragments of fractured memories, scattered and elusive. I grope for coherence in the haze, attempting to piece together the puzzle of my actions and choices.

As I lay there, vulnerable and disoriented, I can't help but wonder how I ended up in this state and what consequences await me on the other side of this throbbing fog.

I blink slowly, sunlight assaulting my eyes. The room around me is unfamiliar, and panic grips my chest as I struggle to remember how I got here. My mouth feels dry like I've swallowed cotton balls, and I groan in discomfort.

With slow, shaky movement, I sit up and glance around, panic coursing through me. It only intensifies when I notice the oversized t-shirt I'm wearing. It's not mine; it's a man's shirt.

The door to the room creaks open, and my heart lurches in my throat.

“Alex.” his name is a sigh of relief.

Hazel eyes, warm and expressive, peer out from beneath the tousled, sun-kissed strands of his messy hair. A hint of morning scruff graces his strong jawline, adding a rugged charm to his already striking features. His t-shirt, stretched taut by the contours of his well-defined pecs and biceps, paints an enticing silhouette.

"How are you feeling?" he asks gently, handing me a mug of steaming coffee.

I take a sip, the warmth of the liquid soothing my raw throat. "Better," I manage to croak. "But I don't remember much, to be honest."

“You had quite a night." He takes a seat beside me. "I was going to take you back to your place, but I couldn't find your purse."

Panic washes over me as I realize the implications. "My purse...I had my ID, my phone, everything in there!”

Alex places a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry," he reassures me. "Jessica found it and brought it over this morning."

Relief floods through me, and I let out a shaky laugh. "Thank goodness for Jessica. I owe her big time."

"She was worried about you, too."

I glance down at the oversized t-shirt, a blush rising. "Sorry about this.”

Alex chuckles softly. "It happens to the best of us sometimes. Don't worry about it."

He stands. “I've washed your clothes. They’re on the dresser with your purse. Why don’t you have a shower, and we’ll talk over breakfast."

I'm touched by his thoughtfulness and the effort he's gone through to make me feel comfortable. "Thank you,"

As he leaves the room to give me privacy, I stand up, my mind still reeling from what I remember about last night’s events.

My purse catches my eye, and I retrieve it to check my phone. The screen lights up with a series of messages from Kimmy and Jessica, both filled with concern for my well-being.

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