ROWAN >>> THE NEXT MORNING <<< The first thing I noticed was the sunlight.
Golden rays slipped through the floor-to-ceiling windows, warming my face until I reluctantly opened my eyes.
“…Ugh.” A dull ache sat right behind my temples.
My whole body felt heavy, like someone had filled my bones with lead.
I frowned at the ceiling.
Why did I feel like I’d been run over by a truck?
I blinked a few times, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes.
The ceiling above me wasn’t white.
It was matte black, with modern recessed lights built into it.
“…Huh?” I slowly pushed myself into a sitting position.
The second I moved, every muscle in my body complained.
I froze.
“…Why am I so sore?” My eyes wandered around the room.
My eyes wandered around the room.
A huge king-sized bed.
Dark wooden walls.
Expensive-looking artwork.
Floor-to-ceiling windows that showed the entire city skyline glowing in the morning light.
Everything about the place screamed money.
A lot of money.
The realization suddenly hit me that I wasn’t home.
“What the hell?” I threw the blanket aside so fast I nearly rolled off the bed.
I looked down.
My clothes were gone.
Instead, I was wrapped in a soft white bathrobe that definitely wasn’t mine.
Fragments of last night flashed through my head.
“…Oh no.” I buried my face in both hands.
“No… no, no, no…” “Please tell me I imagined all of that.” I stayed like that for a few seconds, desperately hoping I’d wake up again.
Maybe this was still a dream.
Maybe I had passed out at the bar and some kind stranger had brought me somewhere safe.
I slowly lowered my hands and looked around the room again.
Nope.
This place was far too luxurious to be part of my imagination.
A long sigh escaped my lips.
“Oh, Rowan…” I rubbed my forehead.
“What exactly were you thinking?” I remembered turning him down at the bar.
I had told myself I wasn’t going anywhere with a complete stranger.
So how had I ended up here?
Why the hell did I grab his hand and follow him home?
And as if that wasn’t enough, he had fucked the living daylights out of me.
Now I was sitting here with full post-nut clarity, and it felt awful.
I groaned into my hands.
“I really made the worst decisions yesterday.” I let out another dramatic sigh before dropping backward onto the bed.
“Congratulations, Rowan.” “You officially win the award for making terrible life choices.” I facepalmed again, harder this time.
Then my mind went back to the stranger.
“…Wait.” I turned and looked around the bed.
I was the only one in it.
The other side was empty, the sheets already cool.
“Where did he go?” I wondered.
Was he in the bathroom?
Or had he already left?
A tiny part of me hoped he had.
Because if he walked through that door right now… I honestly didn’t know how I’d look him in the eye after everything that happened last night.
The thought alone was enough to make my face burn.
“Nope.” I pointed at the bedroom door as if making a serious announcement.
“The smartest thing to do right now is to disappear.” If I left before he came back… Neither of us would have to suffer through an awkward morning conversation.
Perfect plan.
Absolutely perfect.
I nodded proudly to myself.
Then my eyes landed on the clock sitting on the bedside table.
I squinted.
My heart almost stopped.
“Oh, shit!” I cussed under my breath and immediately tried to jump up.
That was when the sharp pain in my ass hit me full force.
I sucked in a breath and sat right back down.
“Let me sit my ass down,” I told myself through gritted teeth.
I stayed frozen for a few seconds, breathing through the discomfort.
He really had kept his word about making me unable to walk properly.
I silently cussed him out.
I muttered under my breath.
“Lesson learned.” Eventually, I gathered enough courage to stand again.
This time much slower, careful and holding the pain.
I shuffled across the room like an old man whose knees had given up on life.
“If anyone sees me walking like this…” I sighed dramatically.
“I’ll simply transfer to another university.” By the time I reached the full-length mirror, I was already exhausted.
I looked up.
“…Oh.” The person staring back at me barely looked like the same Rowan who had walked into that hotel bar yesterday.
My hair was a complete mess.
My cheeks were still slightly flushed.
The bathrobe hung loosely over my shoulders.
Then my eyes drifted higher.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” I leaned closer to the mirror.
There were faint love bites scattered along my neck and just below my jaw.
Not one.
But Several!!!
I slowly turned my head from one side to the other.
“…Seriously?” I groaned so loudly that it echoed through the room.
“How am I supposed to explain this?” I looked at my reflection with narrowed eyes.
“You couldn’t even aim somewhere people can’t see?” I sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that morning.
“How am I supposed to hide all of this?” I muttered under my breath.
I turned my head from side to side in front of the mirror, hoping the marks on my neck would magically disappear.
No shirt collar in the world was going to cover all of that.
I let out a long sigh before looking around the bedroom.
“My clothes…” I definitely couldn’t walk around dressed in someone else’s bathrobe.
I searched beside the bed.
Nothing.
I checked the couch.
Still nothing.
“Did he throw them away or something?” I grumbled.
Just as I was about to give up, my eyes landed on a neatly folded piece of paper resting on the bedside table.
Curiosity got the better of me.
I slowly walked over and picked it up.
Written across the front in bold handwriting were four simple words.