Page 9 of Secret Marriage To My Bosshole

I have no business waking up in Griffin’s bed.

In fact, I had no business dancing with Griffin last night, kissing him, or whatever we did for the rest of the night that I can’t remember.

With trembling hands, I instinctively reach down to check for my underwear. The fabric, still snug and intact, brings a flood of relief washing over me.

A sigh escapes my lips, and I feel a weight lift from my chest. Last night’s events have blurred, but this simple confirmation brings clarity and reassurance.

That is the last time I ever go out drinking.

But I did make out with my boss on the dance floor in a bar.

I’m not better than Victor was. He cheated on me with someone at work, risking his job for a fling.

And now, here I am doing the same thing.

I groan and quietly head into the ensuite bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. This must be some bad nightmare that I will wake up from soon.

Except, it isn’t.

In the mirror is a woman I don’t recognize. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are bright.

She looks alive and not the shell of the person I’ve been feeling like since I ended the engagement with Victor.

It’s hard to believe that one night is enough to change everything, but it is.

My gaze drops to the dark mark at the base of my neck. My cheeks flame and I have half a mind to hunt Griffin down and wring his neck.

I can’t believe I let him leave a damn hickey on my neck.

After splashing another round of cold water on my face, I leave the washroom and look around the base of the bed for my heels.

I get to my knees and crawl around, my stomach lurching.

The room around me is spinning as I lift the edge of the duvet and look beneath the bed.

My heels are kicked under it, and reassuringly, there are no condom wrappers tossed around them.

Even drunk, I don’t think I would be stupid enough to sleep with Griffin.

Except there is that stupid part of me that can’t shake my attraction for him. It’s nothing more than physical, but my heart speeds up a little every time I see him.

More than one night has been spent picturing what it would be like to have him.

I stand and put on my heels, my eyes burning as I look out the window. I don’t know how long I’ve been with Griffin or if Kaleigh is looking for me.

Either way, I have to get out of here before anyone finds us together. Even if nothing happened, people would be quick to make assumptions.

I wobble out of the room, my head spinning. I need to get back to my room, pop some headache pills, and then go find the greasiest breakfast sandwich known to man.

Griffin is still snoring on the couch, his hair tousled and his shirt off. My gaze darts down to his toned body as I stand in the doorway a little too long. My core clenches, thinking about the kiss we shared and the way those muscles felt beneath my hands.

He mumbles something in his sleep, though it’s so soft I miss the words.

Griffin rolls over and pulls a throw pillow closer to his chest. His dark eyelashes flutter against his high cheekbones.

It’s not fair that he looks this good when he’s sleeping.

I rake my hand through my hair, my fingers catching on several knots. With a sigh, I make my way to the door. My steps are as quiet as possible.

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