• • •
Someone is knocking. On my skull.
No, on the door.
Jesus, I wish they’d stop. And I’ve got the hardest pillow under my head. I don’t even know why they’d make a pillow like this. It’s—
A thigh. My eyes are open and it’s a thigh under my head. Theo’s thigh.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “Fuck.”
I force myself upright and tiny slivers of the night flash through my brain. The two of us stumbling off the elevator, laughing and overly loud. My back hitting a door as he pressed me against it to kiss me. It wasn’t our door. Someone yelled at us, and we laughed at that too.
Tripping over something as we walked into the dark room. Landing on the floor with him above me, kissing me as his hand went into my dress.
And while these memories flash through my head, the knocking continues, gets louder.
“Shit,” I hiss. The woman is here to do my hair, but I’ve definitely got to shower because…he came. He came several times and in several places, and I’m fairly certain at least one of those places was my hair.
“Je viens!” I call. My own voice hurts my head. It appears to hurt Theo’s head too. “Can you get the door? I’ve got to shower.”
We both climb from the bed.Theo is naked.This shouldn’t be a shock to me, I guess, butoh my god.I grip the furniture to stayupright as I trip to the bathroom. The simple act of walking is enough to make me throwup.
I barely reach the toilet in time. When whatever god-awful things my stomach contained are expelled, I force myself to stand, turning on the shower and stepping inside before the water is warm. I step right back out to throw up again, so hot and dizzy I don’t know how I’m going to get backup.
God.How much did we drink?
A lot. I imagine I’m at fault.
I grip the sides of the toilet and force myself to my feet and back into the shower, which is now scalding.
My body is one long bruise. My ribs are sore. The entire area between my legs feels as if it was thrashed with a belt. Jesus, even my scalp hurts as I hurriedly massage shampoo into it. I only recall tiny glimpses of last night but…did he bite my ass?
I reach behind me and yes, there’s a particularly sore spot right where I remember it happening.
There are pinpoint bruises on my breasts. I remember the suction of his mouth, the way it made me gasp and arch and beg. I remember that I was soaked, that I begged him to fuck me, and he said it was a bad idea.
I’m not sure why he’d hold out on that one thing when it’s pretty apparent he didn’t hold out in any other way.
I’ve just gotten my robe on and am about to head out when there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I call hoarsely.
Theo, hair still damp, stands there with his hands in his pockets, frowning. “The hairdresser’s waiting,” he says, but then he steps fully into the room and shuts the door.
His head hangs. His hands clasp in front of him. There’s a talk coming. A “last night was a mistake, and I hope you don’t think it meant anything” talk, and I’ve never wanted to hear anything less in my life.
Because I know it was a mistake and I know it was a bad idea, but from the little I remember…it was also incredible. And therefore a mistake I personally wouldn’t mind making again and again.
He winces. “Look, I just need to get this out of the way because it might be the last time we’re alone for a while but…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
My chest constricts. He’s doing exactly what I expected. I’m not sure why it hurts. It shouldn’t.
I force a casual shrug. “Just because we woke up naked doesn’t mean anythinghappened.”
His eyes widen, and though I’m still miserable and hungover and ridiculously, inexcusably sad, I sort of want to laugh. He’s now thinking he has to explain to me that somethingdidhappen, and he’s also thinking I was so blackout drunk last night that it couldn’t possibly have been consensual, and to be honest…I was close, but he was too.
“Bex,” he says hoarsely, “I’m so sorry. We didn’t actually sleep together but I’m pretty sure we—”
