Page 43 of Once Upon A Player
Violet
I’m so bloody thirsty.My mouth’s parched, and I lick my dry lips. My head hurts a little, and my whole body feels kind of strange, as though I’m trussed up.
Wait…
I had a date with Lucas.The sleepy tendrils anchoring me in a dreamy half world snap, and my heart slams against my ribs.
I stayed the night with Lucas.And I can’t remember athing.
I’m frozen as I desperately try to probe my reluctant mind. Dread grips my stomach, and I force open my eyes.
The room is in shadow. Gingerly, I inch my hand across the great expanse of bed. It’s empty. Not even warm. The other side of the bed is like it wasn’t slept in at all.
I snatch my hand back, and then lift the sheet. No wonder I’m so uncomfortable. I’m still in my dress. Heat blasts through me, and I fight the urge to pull the sheet over my head and hide from…an empty room.
Nothing happened last night.At least, not in this bed. Plenty happened before I reached his bedroom, and I let out a mortified groan and pull the sheet over my head anyway.
That bloody bitch, Monica.
How am I going to face Lucas today? What if he thinks I’m a crazy stalker fan who only got the job cleaning his penthouse because I wanted to get close to him?
Oh, for fuck’s sake, Vi.I know I’m being stupid and melodramatic, but last night was a dream date until Monica and Geoff appeared.
And I drank too much.
Shit. I drank too much.Fresh horror skids through me as humiliating fragments of memory surface.
I literally threw myself at Lucas when we got back here. And he behaved like the perfect gentleman. Another groan burns my throat. What are my chances of slipping out of here unnoticed?
And never seeing him again?
Is that what I really want?
No. Definitely not. I peel back the sheet and take another quick look around the room. I’m busting for the loo, and I know he has an en suite, so it’s unlikely I’ll bump into him before I’ve cleaned myself up.
I tiptoe across the room, although I’ve no idea why since it’s not like I’m going to wake him.Did he sleep on the sofa?Probably in his spare room. Why didn’t he putmein his spare room?
Maybe because I invited myself in here?
I collapse onto the loo and bury my face in my hands. Everything had been going so well. And sure, maybe I’d drunk alittletoo much champagne for some added courage before Geoff and Monica turned up, but I really hit the bottle afterward, didn’t I?
And Lucas didn’t take advantage.As if he would.Even though I wanted to sleep with him more than anything, there’s a warm little glow in the center of my chest that we didn’t have drunk sex. I don’t want memories of our first time hazy and disjointed because I was half cut.
As I wash my hands I try to avoid my reflection in the wall-size mirror above the double sink vanity. I can’t even change out of my crumpled dress.
So much for myessential packinglast night. If I’d thought it through a bit more, instead of totally focusing on having wild and bendy sex with Lucas, I would’ve stuffed a spare pair of knickers, jeans, and T-shirt in an overnight bag. What did I think I was going to wear this morning? Nothing but a satisfied smile?
Yes, that sounds about right.
There’s a soft tap on the bedroom door. Panic rakes through me, and I grip the edge of the sink. I already know Lucas is going to look completely delicious, and probably still damp around the edges from a shower, whereas I resemble something out of a Stephen King movie.
And pretending I’m not here isn’t going to change anything.
I hitch in a ragged breath, go back to the bedroom, and open the door.
He looks even better than I imagined. And that’s saying something.
“Morning.” He grins at me, as though I didn’t make a total twat of myself last night. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
