Chapter 12
A Blunder
Hillary Beck
Iwoke up with a gasp. I lay naked on a huge bed, all alone under the sheets. The sunlight streamed in through huge French windows, lighting up the room. I sat up, pulling the sheets around me and looking around. Memories of the previous night flashed into my mind. I remembered the club and then the number of shots I’d had. I remembered Julie asking us to slow down, and I remembered getting drunker and drunker.
And then I had seen Kyle…but it hadn’t been Kyle!It had been someone else. He’d told me his name; I tried to remember –James!And I had thrown my drink in his face, and then I had thrown up on him!The car ride flashed into my head, and then I remembered being on an elaborate couch, kissing him, and then images of writhing bodies fashed through my mind. A wave of embarrassment surged as I recalled snippets of what had happened.How could I have done this?How could I have let this happen?I tried to think back and pinpoint what had caused me to act in such a way.
I didn’t know why I did what I did. All I knew was that for a moment, I was once again caught in the horrible nightmare that plagued me. That once again, I was running from him. Begging him for mercy as he tortured me. I’d been scared and crying, fear consuming me. And then, I opened my eyes and found myself looking into those eyes. I remember hearing his soft voice whisper that it would be okay. And I couldn’t help thinking he would save me. He would protect me. I was sacred, but suddenly… my savior was in front of me.
And I had kissed him. It was stupid. Now that I had slept off the effects of the alcohol, my head was banging, and I felt sick. The nightmare made me feel even worse. And somehow, my mind had seen him as the ray of hope, the ray of light that I needed in my life. I knew I was an idiot to think that. To see him like that. He hadn’t saved me. He was just some random man who had found me drunk and had taken me to his home. And I had kissed him and then slept with him. I looked around and saw him standing near one of the large windows, a drink in his hand.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, sitting up. Instant pain shot through my head, and I groaned, clutching it.
“I’ll get you some painkillers,” he said. “I have a few that are excellent for dealing with a hangover.”
He walked away, and I found myself staring after him. He might not have saved me, but he had been kind to me. He had brought me home despite the fact that I threw up on him…twice. Considering I was just a stranger, he had indeed been kind.
He handed me the medicine and then walked over to the window, his hands in his pockets as he gazed out.
“Thank you,” I said. “I realized that I didn’t thank you yet for looking after me.”
“I only did it because I saw you as my responsibility,” he said cooly. “If I had left you on the floor, and someone had taken advantage of you, I would have felt guilty. I was just saving myself any future trouble. That is all there is to it. Nothing more.”
“I still want to thank you,” I said.
“Then thank me by telling me where you live so I can have my driver take you home,” he snapped.
I looked at him, his words stinging me for some reason. Then again, men only ever caused pain, so I ignored it.
“You don’t need to,” I said. “I’ll call my friends. I can get home myself.”
“As you wish,” he said.
I swung my feet off the bed, my legs shaking under me. I felt a wave of weakness through me, but my pride wouldn’t let me ask for help.
I walked towards the door, trying to find my clothes and wondering if I could find a payphone to call Erica.
“Who hurt you?” he asked suddenly.
“What?” I asked.
“Your nightmare,” he said. “Who hurt you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, shivering at the memory.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because he can’t hurt me anymore,” I replied.
He gave a simple nod, still not looking at me. I observed him, his attractive form, and his handsome face. My heart gave a twinge, and I felt a wave of desire. A wave that I instantly suppressed. It was just an attraction. I looked around the vast room that I was standing in, suddenly realizing how luxurious everything was. My drunk ramblings flashed through my mind, and I smiled at my own naivety. Of course, he was some big shot businessman. Just look at the place.
It was extravagant in every sense of the word. Memories of our night together assailed me, and I blushed with embarrassment. I shot him one last look as images of his naked body flooded my mind. I wanted to say something, but I wasn’t sure what.
What do you say in a situation like this? Especially when he was acting as if nothing had happened.
“Sir, you called for me?” an elderly man said, appearing at the door.
“Kindly take the young lady out and ask my driver to drop her at home,” the man said. I vaguely remembered he had called himself James.
“Yes, of course.” The older man gestured out, and I followed him. We didn’t share any goodbyes, but I knew I would never meet him again.
