Page 19 of Faking the Pass
A tingling sensation started at my scalp and moved down my entire body, lifting the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck.
It made no sense at all, but somehow, Rosie James, rising Hollywood star and the girl I’d dated for three weeks in high school, was fast asleep in my bed.
What the fuck?
I’d have been lying if I said I hadn’t imagined this woman in my bed more than once.
But in those fantasies, she hadn’t been asleep.
We’d been engaging in the kind of activities I hadn’t dared try with her back when we were kids.
Down boy, she’s a married woman now.
What the hell was she doing here—alone—on her wedding night?
I’d have thought she’d be at a fancy reception right now or maybe off on her honeymoon already instead of sleeping like a baby in an ex-boyfriend’s house.
She looked like an angel there in the light of the bedside lamp.
Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup, and she was more beautiful than she’d ever looked onscreen or in publicity photos.
Prettier even than she’d been in high school, and I’d thought she was a goddess back then.
So what was I supposed to do? Let her finish her beauty sleep?
Wake her up and demand to know what the hell she was doing in my house?
Before I could decide, she opened her eyes, blinking slowly for a second.
And then she screamed.
Chapter 5
Is This Hell?
Rosie
At first I thought it was another nightmare.
My sleep had been plagued by them thanks to one of the worst days of my life being closely followed by a full bottle of wine andwaytoo many pre-packaged snack cakes.
But then I came to full alertness and realized that no, there actuallywasan enormous man staring down at me.
And holding a bat.
Heart rocketing around my chest and hands shaking with adrenaline, I flung the covers back and scrambled to the other side of the bed, sliding off it and attempting to flee for my life from my would-be murderer.
Unfortunately, my left foot was still caught up in the blanket.
When I tried to run toward the attached bathroom, it tripped me.
As I fell forward, my forehead hit the door frame with a loudthwak, and I ricocheted back, landing hard on my butt.
There was movement in my peripheral vision as the intruder ran around the end of the bed, reaching me before I even had time to react.
This was it. Not only was I going to die on my un-wedding night, I would look grotesque in my casket with a purple, misshapen forehead and chocolate in my teeth.
“Rosie.”
