“I’m sorry to have to tell you, but you’re a year older now. It’s only downhill from here.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” she chants.
The truth is, she only just turned twenty-eight. She may have a couple of years on me, but she’s far from old. The hangover thing, however? That’s true.
“Did you have a good night?” I ask, trying to ignore the fact I really need to pee.
“Yeah, although I think your night might have been better,” she teases.
Memories hit me, and my cheeks heat.
I groan, twisting my burning face into the pillow.
Did I really go out last night and end up fucking a hockey player in a club?
Yes. Yes, I did.
Really, is it any wonder my mother disapproves of me?
“You’d better not be regretting it,” Sienna states.
“Yes, no. Maybe. I don’t know,” I ramble. There was a time in my life when I wouldn’t have second-guessed my actions, but I’m a little older, and I like to think a little wiser now.
It was incredible, though—there is no denying that.
“Just think, you’ll be able to tell the story of your one night with the hot hockey player for years to come.”
“Oh yeah, that’s a great one for the grandkids,” I deadpan before giving up the fight, throwing the covers off and pushing to my feet. “Ouch,” I complain when muscles I didn’t know I had scream in pain.
“What was that?” Sienna teases.
“Nothing,” I mutter, shuffling toward the bathroom.
“Oh, that isn’t nothing. That is the evidence that you got fucked six ways from Sunday last night by the one and only Everett Donnelly.”
“Do we have to keep talking about it?” I shoot over my shoulder.
“That you fucked Everett Donnelly, one of the most eligible bachelors not only in the city, but the state? Or possibly the entire country?”
“Let’s be honest, Si. He’s got so many notches on his bedpost that I’m not exactly anything special.”
That knowledge drips through me like poison.
To Everett Donnelly, last night was just another night. I was just another woman. I highly doubt he’s waking up this morning thinking about me.
“Oh, baby, that is where you are so, so wrong. There is everything special about you, and he’s a damn fool not to take the time to learn exactly that.”
I’m shaking my head as I close the door, shutting myself in the safety of the bathroom.
My head spins, and while my thighs might ache, I quickly discover while doing my business that they’re not the only thing left sore from the night before.
What the hell did that man do to my vagina?
Made her very, very happy.
I roll my eyes at myself as I finish up and walk to the sink.
My makeup from last night is still smeared all over my face. After our late-night snack of fries and ice cream—that may have also included a couple of premixed drinks that Sienna found in her fridge—I was too exhausted to do anything about it. Instead, I pulled on my pajamas and crashed in Sienna’s bed, knowing that the state of me would be tomorrow’s problem.
