Page 9 of Art of Love
Why was there a man ....
My eyes widened when I ran my gaze up and landed on his face. I was totally stunned for a moment as I stared at what was probably the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my life off screen, but then reality hit.
Reality hit along with a memory.
Reality.Why was I lying on top of said man with his arm around me?
Memory... I remembered being in the bar yesterday. Yesterday... I think it was yesterday. I remembered it being night, so I was going to go out on a limb and hope like hell that was yesterday. The way I felt it could be days later.
I remembered drinking, drinking because of the shit with Bane, and then this guy coming into the bar. The Brad Pitt/Thor look-alike. The Thor part I had a hazy recollection of. And he was English.
I remembered drinking with him, then...
Then what happened?
My heart sped up, and my pulse jumped. I couldn’t remember!
I couldn’t remember. And...
I was naked!
God in heaven, what the hell? I sure knew how to make a bad, bad situation so much worse.
What did I do?
Did I sleep with him?
I didn’t feel like I’d just had sex. All I felt was panic and embarrassment... then worry.
Were we careful? I looked around for signs of maybe a condom wrapper. I wasn’t on birth control. My pills ran out last week, and I forgot to go to the doctor.
I’d decided to wait until I got to L.A., then sort all that stuff out because I had to change dentist too.
Oh fuck, screw all of that.
I was naked, and he was ...
I lifted the silky sheets and looked down at his strong, powerful legs that looked more contoured in his boxers.
Okay, he was wearing clothes, but I was butt naked. So, we must have done something.
I couldn’t believe it. I just couldn’t. Gorgeous as he was, this was bat shit crazy.Jesus Christ.
I’d gone out and slept with some guy I didn’t even know, and I couldn’t remember what the hell happened.
I shuffled out of his arms and slid off the bed hoping not to wake him and thankfully didn’t. On the floor over by the chest of drawers were my panties. Taking my time to pad across the wooden floor, I grabbed them. The rest of my clothes was nowhere to be found.
I looked around the tastefully decorated room with mahogany furniture and its beige and cream colors and found nothing.Where the hell did my clothes go?
And my shoes?
Ugh. I did the next best thing and rushed up to his wardrobe to grab one of his shirts. No way was I going to stay here, searching around for my clothes, and risk waking him up.
Then what? What could I say? I couldn’t even remember his name.
I grabbed a white button-down shirt and practically threw it on. It just reached the tops of my thighs, so looked a little like a shirt dress. I then grabbed one of his ties from the rack hanging on the door and tied it around my waist so as not to make it look so obvious that I was wearing a man’s shirt, and clearly, I was doing that because I didn’t know where my clothes were.
God. Why?
