It feelslike I got hit by a truck. Or a train. Or at the very least, something really freaking large.
My mouth is so dry it feels like it’s filled with quicksand, and my God… Everything. Hurts.
I’m either already dead or extremely close to it.
Groaning, I peel one eye open, immediately snapping it back shut when the light nearly blinds me from how bright the room is.
Wait…
I snap up, forcing my eyes open. My gaze flicks around the room, and I realize I’m not at my apartment.
And then it all comes flooding back.
In absolutely painful, horrifying waves that make me want toactuallydie, not just feel like I am.
Getting drunk for the first time at the club. My twenty-first birthday, which somehow ended up with… Wilder picking me up. Len threatening him within an inch of his life.
I flop back down onto the mattress and squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t do something stupid like cry.
Holy shit.
The email.
Telling him I don’t care about his dick.
God, why was I even thinking about his dick?
Groaning, I pull the pillow from beneath my head and press it into my face, letting out a muffled scream.
I’m so embarrassed I want to disappear. Forever.
I. Am. Mortified.
I can’t believe I emailed him, and then he picked me up, and…
Throwing the pillow off, I sit up and look down, quickly realizing that the fuck-me dress that I decided to wear last night is gone, now replaced by an old, worn, discolored hockey shirt that is missing pieces of the letters.
Lifting the front, I inhale. It smells like Wilder.
Everything in this bed smells like him. The sheets, the comforter, his pillow.
It’s so inherently masculine that my pussy throbs, a reaction I never thought I’d have just from smelling someone.
But it does. He smells so good that I could scream.
Then I remember why I’m wearing his T-shirt in the first place.
Oh. My. God.
No. I didn’t… I didn’t.
I distinctly remember the toilet bowl and spending what felt like eternity face down in it while he… held my hair, rubbed my back. I vomited, and he saw every single moment of what is no doubt the most mortifying thing that’s ever happened to me.
My embarrassment doubles, and just when I think that I can’tpossiblyfeel any worse, I hear the sound of a deep rumble coming from somewhere beside me.
Did he…
I peek over the side of the bed and find a shirtless Wilder sprawled out on the floor, face down, asleep on a pillow.
