Page 2 of Affinity

Jenner

There’s nothing like waking up to someone throwing up and screaming in your hotel room to instantly put you in a bad mood. My head was pounding, and with each noise, it escalated. Not only that, but my mouth also tasted like shit. I held the pillow over my head as I tried to remember what happened last night. I remembered showing up yesterday with Levi, my friend and assistant. I wanted to come here alone, but he wouldn’t let me. My publicist had him babysitting me, and I didn’t blame her. After I got out of rehab, I knew this was my last chance before I was blacklisted from jobs. The public knew about my DUI and that I went to rehab, but they didn’t know about how much I liked a little cocaine with my whiskey. The only ones who knew the real truth were my father, my publicist, and Levi. My friends, Luke and Alex, had tried to get me to talk to them about what had happened, but so far, I’d been lucky to get out of having to lie to their faces. I hadn’t seen Luke or Alex since before it had all gone down. That was the one good thing about them living in Fairlane, but I knew my time was running out on being able to avoid them. I wasn’t sure how I was ever going to face them. I’d fallen hard after my divorce, and now I was paying the price.

I’m not sure how they were able to hide it, but somehow they’d managed to keep my cocaine usage out of the press, and for that, I was grateful. Afterward, it took a lot of phone calls before any directors were willing to meet with me, and if it wasn’t for Catherine, I’m sure I’d still be out of a job. I wasn’t excited about doing a Netflix series, but I knew I had to suck it up if I ever wanted to get back into making movies.

Where was Levi? He should have been here making sure I was being a good boy. I couldn’t believe he let me get hammered while out in public.

I heard the sink come on in the bathroom and wondered who was in there. I knew it wasn’t Levi from the previous shrieking. Sitting up, I immediately regretted it when the room spun, and last night’s dinner tried to make an appearance. Burying my face in my hands, I waited for the earth to stop spinning.

“No, no, no, you can’t have one too!” The mystery woman yelled from what sounded like right next to my ear when, in fact, she was a few feet away.

She ripped my hand away from my face and turned it this way and that.

“Yes,” I held up my other hand before I snatched my hand back from her grip, “I was born with two just like you.”

I looked her up and down. Whoever this mystery woman was, she was a knockout. She had long brown hair that looked like it was a mess from a long night of rough sex and big brown eyes that were glaring at me. That wasn’t the only thing big on her. I was dying to get my hands on those breasts again because I knew there was no way in hell I hadn’t worshiped those babies last night.

“What was your name again, honey?”

“Why don’t you look on your fucking finger and find out,” she hissed.

I looked down and read each letter slowly. A.B.B.I. I tried to rub the ink off my finger, but it wouldn’t come off. What the hell had happened last night, and why had she written her name on my finger?

“You’re Abbi?”

“Yes, I’m Abbi.” She blushed, and I couldn’t help but find it adorable. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Leaning up on my elbow, I gave her my dazzling smile. “It’s nice to meet you too, Abbi. Now, why don’t you come back to bed, and we can recreate last night?” And hopefully remember it this time.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Abbi pointed down at her name on my finger. “Because mine bothers me!”

Snatching the hand she was waving around, I caught sight of my name on her ring finger. Maybe I could have some fun with this.

“Well, since it looks like it belongs to me, why don’t you give me a hand?” I asked as I pulled her hand to my rising cock.

“Oh my god, you’re a grade-A asshole,” she yelled as she pulled her hand out of mine.

“Come on, Abbi. It’s obvious we fucked last night, so why not do it again?”

“As if,” she stomped her little foot, and it took everything in me not to laugh. “Do you have any STDs?” She’d morphed to pissed in a nanosecond, and I instantly knew I wasn’t getting laid.

Ignoring her, I went back to my finger and tried to rub off her name. If she wasn’t going to give me what I wanted, then I had no need for her name on my finger. “For your information, no, I don’t have any STDs. I always use a condom.Always.”

“Well, that’s all fine and dandy, but would you mind pointing out the condom or the wrapper from last night, if you always wrap it up?”

I spat on my finger and tried to get the ink to budge, but it wasn’t going anywhere. How was I supposed to walk around Vegas with her stupid fucking name on my finger? “What kind of ink did you use? It won’t come off.”

She sputtered out a laugh. “I didn’t do that . . . well, at least I don’t think I did.” She sighed as she looked down at her name. “It’s my handwriting. I don’t remember much about last night, but one thing I do know is that these are tattoos.”

Tattoos?

“Oh, and another thing, I’m pretty sure we didn’t use protection last night.”

That wasn’t possible. Never once in all my years had I had sex without a condom. Hopping out of bed, I searched the room for a discarded wrapper. The room was a mess with everything on the floor as if it was trying to hide the fucking condom from me. Running over to my suitcase, I threw it open to where I knew I’d packed a full box of condoms. And there they were. Unopened.

“Fuck,” I groaned and sank to my knees.

“I told you! Who’s to say all those days and nights of you being inebriated, you didn’t wrap it up and now you have some disease you’ve passed on to me?”

---