Page 1 of Here's to Yesterday

Prologue

“Why doguys wake up with boners all the time?” I’m still half asleep—and maybe still drunk—but my question is legit because there is currently a rock-hard penis poking me in my lowerback.

“Because sleep is so good our dicks say, ‘I wanna fuck this bed.’ That’s why,” a gruff, muffled voicesays.

I laugh and wiggle my butt back onhim.

“Woman,” the voice says. He must have his face buried in his pillow, because I can barely hear him. “Stop it. You’re making this a lot more embarrassing than it alreadyis.”

He slips an arm around my waist, pulling me closer tohim.

“What time is it?” I ask through ayawn.

“Tooearly.”

I smile. He’s probably right, but I need toknow.

Cracking open an eye, I peek around the room.Huh. Nice.I’m not sure what I was expecting, but a nice, clean room wasn’t it. Then again, I don’t have my glasses on, so my eyes could easily be lying tome.

I try to stretch and grab my phone, but I don’t make it far. He’s got a tight grip, and the pressure on my alcohol-ridden stomach isn’t helpinganything.

Sighing, I close my eyes again because it’s starting to hurt to keep them open. “Come on. Let me up. I gotta see what time itis.”

“Nope. You’re gonna have to pry me offyou.”

So I try. I grab hold of his arm, pushing and pulling. It’s not working. Suddenly, he relents, letting me lift his arm. It’s heavy as hell. A lot heavier than Iremember.

I open one eye again, everything still a bit blurry. Even through the half-drunk haze I’m in, I know that this arm—the one that was just holding me tightly and carefully all at once—doesn’t belong to whom it should. And that makes me feel likeshit.

I push hard at his body, wanting to be free from all this guilt I’m suddenly feeling, causing him to almost roll off the too-smallbed.

“What the fuck, Maura!”heshouts, catching himself and rolling over me. I can hear his voice clearlynow.

Oh, shit.The entire night comes rushing back to me. Everything that happened—the heartache, the promises, the kisses,whoI’m with. All ofit.

Pushing at him, I scramble to climb out of bed, my feet turning to ice as I step onto the cold hardwood floor ofhisapartment. I snatch my glasses off the nightstand, shoving them onto myface.

No, no, no.I amsonot where I’m supposed to be. I rush around the unfamiliar bedroom, grabbing my—or rather his—clothes and shoving them onhaphazardly.

What in the hell have I done?It’s all too soon. I’m supposed to wait. This wasn’t supposed to happen yet. I can’t be in bed withhim.

He sighs. “Maura.”

I pause, hearing the hurt in his voice. My heart begins to crack at the pain I’m causing him. “We…we can’t,” I whisper. “You know wecan’t.”

I continue pulling the shirt over my head, refusing to glance back at the bed because I know I’ll give in if I look at him. I know I’ll stay, and Ican’t.

“Maura,” he says again softly. “Please.”

I shake my head, slipping my feet into my flats. “No.”

“Is it because of him?” he asks, heartache clouding his everyword.

I swallow thickly and nod once. “I’m sorry. This…this was a mistake. Abigmistake. I—I’m just sorry,” I tell him, turning the doorknob and quickly making my way out of hisapartment.

The moment my feet hit the hallway, Icollapse.

I’m not sure what hits the ground first—my knees or mytears.

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