“I hate awkward morning-after interactions,” I groan to myself.
I need to find the bathroom so I can get out of here. With any luck, I’m wrong and he’s notactuallyhere and my escape will be easy. Stepping into the hallway, I see a bathroom across the hall and tip toe over, so I can empty my overfull bladder before it explodes.
I’m mid-stream when I smell the most delicious scent.
Bacon.
I’m not sure if a nose can actually smell texture, but I bet it smells crispy. Crispy bacon is my kryptonite. My stomach is still doing somersaults, but I’d risk it all for that delicious pork breakfast delicacy. Although, this confirms that I am most definitely not alone.
Oh, god.
This means I can't avoid the awkward morning after convo, which is always equal parts polite and uncomfortable. It’s exactly why I have a strict rule to get out before he wakes up.
Once my bladder is sufficiently emptied and I’ve found toothpaste to finger brush my teeth with, I wander in the direction of the delicious smell.
I turn the corner to see an open style living space in mostly black and gray tones, simple and clean. On the other side of the living space is a large island with a marble countertop, beyond which I see a shirtless back.
That–is not Brad.
From here, his skin looks smooth in some places but ripped and muscular in others. Inching forward, I see he’s only wearing gray sweatpants that clearly enhance his round, taut ass. The urge to lick him all over overwhelms me. His jet black hair istousled and sprinkled with the occasional gray. Shit.Whois this guy and what the fuck did Idolast night?
“Are you hungry?” he asks, right as panic starts to set in.
Wait–I know that voice.
“You should probably eat something, even if you aren’t.” He adds the bacon to a plate that already has scrambled eggs on it, turning and placing it on the island in front of me before our eyes lock.Holy fucking shit.
“What the fuck,” I yell, jumping back and pulling at the hem of the shirt to cover my ass. “Ryker!” This cannot be happening. I’m so confused.
How did I go from douchebag Brad to my mom’s ex? Ryker has to be at least twenty years my senior. It’s not that he’s unattractive, he’s practically a god in human form. If he were anyone else, I’d take any opportunity to climb him like a tree. Great, now I’m thinking about doing naked things with him.
Focus Arabella,get your shit together.
“Arabella, take a breath and calm down. Nothing happened, at least not between you and I. You called me last night from the bathroom at Lorenzo’s.” I don't miss that his face is scrunched up like he's worried. “We suspect you were drugged. Likely Rohypnol.”
“The date rape drug?” I question, staring blankly at him. “Wait–who iswe?”
“Yes, the date rape drug. And we would be Miranda and I. She’s a doctor and a friend of mine. She came over and checked you out last night. Said it could've been much worse. Looks like you didn't ingest enough to do any real damage and you'd feel better by morning after sleeping it off. Also said some of your memories from last night could be fuzzy. Do you remember anything?”
My heart starts to pound as I stare at him blankly, trying to piece the evening together. “I don’t know,” I whisper. “It’s all sosparse. When I woke up this morning, I just assumed I drank too much and passed out. Did we–?”
He stares at me with a furrowed brow, before saying, “I feel like we should revisit that some other time, because… wow. And, no. Nothing happened–at least not with me. You’re beautiful, but aside from the fact that I don’t engage in sexual acts with drunk women, I’m old enough to be your father.”
Did he just call me beautiful?I don’t think anyone has ever called me that. My mom spent all my life telling meI’d be so pretty if I’d lose weight. So much so, that one day I started believing her. It’s probably why I err on the side of comfy, baggy clothes and despite being pretty open minded, sexually, I’d take lights off versus lights on if given the choice. Thankfully, being a one and done kind of gal allows me to care less about what they think of me. It’s easy when you know you’ll never see them again.
“I know it’s hard, but I need you to try and remember what happened.” Stepping around the island, he pulls out a barstool and guides me to sit. “Do you remember Brad? You were with him last night. ”
I nod and close my eyes tightly, trying to recall the missing pieces. “We had a date. He came over and then we went to Lorenzo’s.”
We sit there, in silence, for so long that when Ryker places a hand on my shoulder, a shock jolts through my body, causing me to jump out of my seat. Nearly falling on my ass as it comes rushing back to me. Every last detail.
“We were eating and he got really pushy with the wine, which I don’t even like, by the way. I started feeling strange, so I went to the bathroom while he was away from the table. I think I hid from him in there.” It comes out in a hushed tone and I internally cringe at the memory.
“Do you remember calling me?”
I do remember.
“I didn’t know who else to call. When you were still with mom, you told me I could call if I needed help and then proceeded to force your number on me. I never deleted it. I’m sorry.”
