Page 6 of Loving Bad
"How much of last night do you remember?" he asked.
Should I lie to him or should I tell him the truth?I hesitated.
"You don't remember," he murmured as he saw the indecision I was wrestling with.
I pressed my lips together as I fidgeted with my hands. There was no point in lying about it. I was a grown woman, and I had nothing to feel ashamed about. I shook my head.
"No, I don't."
"Trust me—sleeping with me isn't something you'd forget," he assured me. Then it occurred to me—if we hadn't slept together, it meant I was still a virgin.
Slowly, so many of the things I'd noticed—like not being sore or tender down there—began to fall into place. He watched me as I began to piece stuff together. But if we hadn't had sex, why had I woken up in the bed with him?
"I don't understand," I said. "If we didn't sleep together, why did I wake up in bed with you?"
That is it!I'm never going to drink again.
"You were out of it last night, and you could barely stand," he revealed. I didn't remember having that much to drink, but I hadn’t drunk alcohol before. Maybe I didn't have a tolerance for it.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled to him, feeling the heat of embarrassment on my face.
"Did you take a drink from someone last night?" he asked. I looked at him. I wasn't sure what he was trying to get at.
"Why would you ask that?" I asked, a little puzzled as to what he was aiming at.
"I don't think you were drunk," he answered cryptically as he folded his arms across his chest.
What exactly did that mean? Did he think someone put something in my drink? I frowned.
"Do you think someone spiked my drink?" I asked the thought out loud. He nodded his head slowly while he watched me for a reaction.
"Why would someone want to do that?" I asked, feeling shocked.
"You can't be that naive," he said, looking at me in disbelief.
I tried to hide my anger. Apparently I was naive. It came from a lack of experience, and I was trying to rectify that. Once the surprise disappeared, annoyance took its place as he took a step forward.
"There are bad people out there. People who will do really bad things given the opportunity," he tried to explain to me. It was like he was talking to a child.
"That was why I took you up to my room. I don't want to think what would have happened to you if I hadn't," he said. He dropped his arms to his sides, and turned his hands into fists.
I suddenly felt a little bad for being angry at him when evidently I should be grateful for what he'd done for me.
"Thank you," I mumbled.
He'd looked after me and, like he said, it could have been worse if he hadn't. It explained why I was in his bed, but it didn't explain why I'd been missing most of my clothes.
"You're welcome," he mumbled as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and dropped his gaze to the floor. It was like he was unaccustomed to being thanked.
"Why was I only dressed in my underwear?" I asked, wanting to be able to piece most of what happened that night together.
"You were trying to take advantage of me," he said with a smirk as he watched me blush. He looked like he was enjoying that little piece.
So embarrassing!
"I'm sorry," I mumbled again, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me up. I felt mortified that I'd thrown myself at him.
"Don't be," he said. "If you hadn't been out of it, I probably would have taken you up on the offer."
