Where the hell did this shit come from?
I groan and throw myself back onto the pillow. Last night comes flickering back in pieces. Kissing Rex. Dancing with Tad. Letting Tad kiss my neck. Fuck. None of last night was normal for me. I hate that I drank so much I can’t remember what I did or didn’t do beyond that kiss. I squeeze my eyes shut and press my fingers to my temples.
Think.
Think.
Think.
It’s gone. Everything after Tad nipping at my neck is gone, sucked into a black hole. I shudder at the thought of what might have happened. I hate him. Although right now, I hate myself more. Tad is the last person on Earth I’d give my firsts to. My real first, I don’t count the ones that were stolen from me.
I sit up, slower this time, and tip toe out of the bed hoping to find a clue as to where I am. I look around the room. It’s simple. A desk and chair. A lamp. Two bedside tables. But no pictures to indicate whose room this is. No art to make the place feel homey. Hell, there isn’t even a TV. You know what else I don’t see? My clothes.
Where could they be?
I pad across the hardwood floors, cautious that somehow someone will know I’m awake. That would be my luck. My hand barely touches the bathroom knob before there's a knock at the door. I freeze. Do I answer? What if it’s Tad? It didn’t even occur to me that this could be his house. What if he wants to do whatever we did last night again? I gasp. Or worse. What if I went home with someone completely different? Someone I can’t remember because I was drugged? I stole that bottle of Rum, who knows what could have been in it.
Shit. Shit. Shit!
They knock again. Whoever it is, knows I’m here. It’s not like I can hide in the closet and pretend like I left. But maybe the window… I run back to the bed and look out the panes. I’m on the second story overlooking the neighbor’s house. There’s no way to get down without breaking my ankle or scaling the roof and even then, I might still be stuck. Begrudgingly, I slip back into the bed and pull the covers to my chest. “Come in.”
Barely a second passes, but it feels like an eternity. The hair on my arms stand on edge, tiny tremors making their way through my body. Last night’s a new phantom haunting my thoughts. But what’s done is done. One thing’s for certain, I’m not doing anything with anybody this morning.
The door creeps open. I suck in a breath and wait. The tip of a black flip-flop comes into the room, followed by a leg and then finally the face. A sigh of relief escapes me when I see him.
Rex.
As crazy as it sounds, I don’t think Rex would have let me do anything too bad. And for that I’m grateful. If ever there was a strange bed I’d want to wake in, it would be his.
Rex walks into the room with a glass of water in one hand and a plate with a large blueberry muffin in the other. He sets every
thing on the nightstand closest to me, pulls the curtains shut, then sits on the edge of the bed. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Morning.”
Rex looks crisp. Even in a faded T-shirt and board shorts, he could pass for a model. I don’t know why his parents didn’t get him into that business. Rich people always try to get richer off their kids. Wait. Maybe that’s poor people. Is it that the rich and famous try to keep their kids out of the spotlight? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Rex isn’t famous and I’m never going to have his kids.
“Here,” he says unzipping the singular side pocket on his shorts. He pulls out a bottle of aspirin. “Take these. You’ll feel better in about an hour.”
I hold out my hand. “Thanks.”
Rex shakes two pills loose. I toss them into my mouth and grab the water off the nightstand. After a quick swallow, I set the cup back beside me, expecting him to leave but he doesn’t. He stares at me, brows knitted together, worry painted on his face.
Shit.
Is he going to tell me that we did something last night? I try to scan my thoughts again, but all I could find is a kiss. One glorious kiss that sends my pulse into warp speed just thinking about it. “Everything ok?”
“Um… you threw up on yourself last night.” Rex pauses and runs his hand through his hair, pushing his dark locks away from his eyes. They fall back into place a moment later looking better than ever. “I put you in the shower and changed you. But don’t worry, I kept your bra and panties on.”
“Oh. Um, Thanks.” That explains why I can’t find my clothes. Rex probably put them to wash. Now that he mentions it, I notice the rancid scent of puke on myself. He must not have scrubbed me clean, only ran water over my body. As grateful as I am for his respect, I’m a little disappointed. I need a reason not to like Rex. A pervy, horny, teenager is the perfect excuse, but he appears to be a true gentleman.
“You should probably take another shower though. All I did was rinse you off. Towels are in the bathroom already.” Rex stands. “I’m gonna head downstairs. Eat. Maybe sleep some more too. You’ll feel better in a few hours.”
14
Rex
Four hours pass before I hear a pitter-patter on the stairs. I close my team’s playbook and walk towards the front entryway. There's only so many stairs, and by the time I reach the hallway Piper’s at the bottom. She’s absolutely stunning. Her long hair’s tucked behind her ears, falling in damp spirals past her shoulders. She’s found a clean shirt of mine and a pair of basketball shorts. I forgot I hid the clothes I needed to fold in that closet.