I am still in a state of total and utter confusion, but I know I can’t still be as good as naked when she comes back out, and I start to gather up my clothes.
My clothes aren’t in the neat pile I would normally leave them in. They’re scattered all over. That could mean one of two things though. It could mean that Sierra and I were in the throes of passion and stripping off as we moved towards the bed. Or it could mean that I was blind drunk and was just taking my clothes off at random as I moved through the room, ready to collapse into bed.
Surely, it has to be option two. That would make the most sense. I can’t work out why Sierra is here though. I decide to just stop thinking about it for a moment. It’s not making anything any clearer and my head is hurting worse the more I try to make sense of anything.
I pull my jeans on with a sigh. I fasten the button and as I’m pulling the zip up, a scream comes from the bathroom. I run towards the door, calling out to make sure Sierra is okay.
Sierra
I sit down on the closed lid of the toilet, the sheet still gathered around me. My head is fuzzy, aching and I feel kind of nauseous. I can live with that though. It’s only a hangover; nothing a few aspirin won’t cure. The aspirin won’t bring my memory back though.
What the actual fuck did I drink last night that was so potent that I have no recollection of the night before? I mean I’ve woken up a little disoriented before, but never in someone else’s bed without knowing how I got there. And I’ve always been able to piece the night together after a couple of minutes.
Think Sierra I tell myself. I can’t though. It’s just a blank space in my head where last night should be. I can’t help but think of Chance. An image flashes through my head of him standing beside the bed, his cock on show. I can’t help but smile despite myself. Chance is always so together, not someone who gets rattled. But his face when he realized his cock was not only out, but was hard and pointing in my direction. If I hadn’t been so embarrassed, I probably would have laughed right there and then.
I’ve known Chance for two years, and I’ve never seen him at a loss for words. He’s usually so articulate. He’s not a babbler, but he always knows the right thing to say for any occasion. But apparently, this morning threw him as much as it threw me, because he just stood there, his mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out.
I know we didn’t have sex. Well, no actually, I don’t know that. But I mean I don’t think we did. Why would we? Neither of us have ever been anything but professional before. There’s been no flirting, no suggestive looks. We’ve barely even spoken to each other except for work related things. Hell, until last night, I hadn’t even seen him in casual clothes and he’d never seen me with my hair down.
Well, that’s certainly all changed.
I try again to remember last night. I remember checking in to the hotel and Chance giving me the night off. So I must have left my room and went for a drink somewhere. That much is clear by the pounding in my head. So maybe I ran into Chance and the others somewhere. I mean I wouldn’t have just come to his room drunk and uninvited would I?
Oh my God, would I? Did I?
Panic fills me at the thought of a drunken me knocking on Chance’s room door and slurring at him. I shake my head, pushing the image away. Even if, for whatever reason, I had done that, he hadn’t exactly sent me packing had he?
“I’m never drinking again,” I whisper.
I get to my feet and glance into the mirror. I gasp at the state of myself. My hair is a wavy mess and I have mascara stains underneath my eyes. My skin is a dead looking grey color. Thanks hangover.
I can’t change whatever happened last night, but I can control what happens next, at least to an extent. I can freshen up a bit and not go out there looking like I’ve rolled in straight out of the trash.
I turn the cold tap on, clutching the sheet with one hand. I wet the other hand and run it over my hair, taming the worst of the wavy bits. Oh, who am I kidding? They’re not wavy bits. They’re frizzy bits. I rub at the mascara underneath my eyes. I manage to get the most of it off.
I tuck the sheet in on itself, so both of my hands are free as I cup water into my hands and splash it onto my face. I’m starting to feel a little more human now. I reach out to turn the tap off and a flash of gold catches my eye.
My eyes widen and panic fills my whole body.
“No, no, no,” I whisper.
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