I’m embarrassed, cheeks burning through my makeup, feeling self-conscious because of his compliments, because I’m so happy to hear them. Weird, but true.
“How about another glass of champagne?” he asks, and I nod with a yes, please.
Fuck it. Why not? I’m way too drunk by now to care.
“Time for round three,” he says as he delivers my glass, and I’m already spreading my legs for more.
My eyes open slowly, hurting from the light. My groggy mind has no idea what’s happening until I roll over in bed, to find it’s not my bed. Of course it’s not. I’m in Hanley Hall.
I’m in Ant’s room in Hanley Hall, but there is no sign of him. His side of the bed is empty.
I prop myself up on my elbows, wincing. His laptop is gone. His suitcase too. The bathroom door is open and he’s definitely not here.
Fuck. FUCK. What the hell have I done?
I know what I’ve done. I’ve been a slut with a stranger – a client’s wedding guest – and now he’s upped and left. Brilliant. At least it saves the embarrassment of having the see you around conversation, because I won’t see him around. Not ever again. I don’t even know where he’s from.
I must have been out cold to be oblivious to him packing up his things. I remember sitting and laughing with him after he fucked me senseless, but I can’t remember what the fuck we were talking about. I was way too trashed by then.
Jesus, I can’t believe I’ve done this.
I look around for my phone and find it on the dresser next to the champagne bottles. I wince again taking a pee, remembering just how hard I’ve taken it from the guy in the tux. After a quick wash and a long drink of water, I struggle back into my crumpled dress and heels. I manage it without toppling over, smoothing down my hair in the mirror before I take the walk of shame.
I look like shit, and feel like shit, the realisation of how I’ve been a cheap one-night stand hitting like a sledgehammer post champagne. Farewell, hot guy. Nice knowing you. Jeez, not my greatest moment.
My head is thumping and my legs feel so tired. I’m sore from the pounding the hot stranger gave my pussy and ass, and I feel utterly embarrassed as I pass the cleaners in the hallway. Yes, I know. It’s past checking out time. I’ve been a fool. At least it’s a Sunday and I have the day off to recover.
I down another glass of water and some painkillers once I reach my own room, packing up without bothering with my makeup. I’m safe to drive, head clearing by the time I reach my car. I’m almost back to my apartment when I get an incoming call. My heart pangs when I see Michelle’s picture on my screen. Of course. It’s the inevitable how are you feeling conversation.
I race up the stairs to my apartment once I’ve pulled into the driveway, scooting around the unopened boxes that still need sorting through. I drop onto the sofa and call Michelle back as soon as I can. Best get it over with.
It’s Tommy’s face that greets me. His five-years-old smile is beaming bright.
“Hey, Cassie. Did you see me in my page boy suit?”
I feel so guilty that I haven’t.
“Not yet, but I will look at some pictures soon. I bet you looked amazing!”
“Yeah, it was good. Uncle Jack said I looked smart. So did Susie.”
“I’m sure you were, cutie.”
I give him a wave, glad he’s too young to realise what a trashed mess I must look onscreen.
“Go set up your dominoes. I’ll be in soon,” Michelle tells him and takes the phone.
“Holy shit, Cass, you look trashed,” she says when he’s out of earshot, pointing out the obvious. “Guess you didn’t do so well, then?”
I toy with the idea of telling her the truth, since Tommy is out of the room, but something holds me back. Embarrassment, or shame. A combination of both.
“I did alright really. No big deal.”
She knows I’m talking shit. I see her expression shift. Sympathy or pity, or a bit of both.
I broach the subject.
“How did it go, then? Did you have a good time?”
“Yeah, it was good. I’m more concerned with how you are right now.”
That’s sweet, considering that she was at her brother’s wedding yesterday, but she’s more bothered about me, his pining ex. Having a brother who used to date her best friend until he dumped her isn’t a great thing to have to navigate.
“I’ll survive,” I tell her, wishing it felt a bit more true. “Not like I haven’t had time to get used to it.”
“Not all that much time. I know it must feel like a shitter. The pics are all up online now, have you seen any? Tommy’s mad keen for you to see him in his little suit.”