Page 25 of Unexpected

I darted up and immediately regretted it when the room spun, and the outside of my vision darkened. But I found the culprit next to me on top of the pillow on the other side of the bed. Sadie’s tail, no, actually, her entire butt was wagging as I squinted at her.

I scanned the rest of the room and quickly realized that none of it looked familiar. Panic began to set in immediately as I raced to mentally retrace my steps and the events of the night before. I was still wearing my clothes—a red top and jeans—and my shoes were placed on the floor next to me. My breath smelled rancid but other than the hangover trying to kill me, I seemed fine.

I knew I was in Luke’s house. Well, Luke and Josh’s house, judging by his dog that lay next to me and the picture of who appeared to be Luke, Josh, and a woman on the bedside table. I was in Luke’s house, and based on the rich, clean, manly scent that I recognized covering his sheets, I was in his bed.

Next to the photo on the table was a bottle of pain reliever, a cup of water, and a folded piece of plain white paper. I popped three of the pain relievers and chugged as much water as I could, then I unfolded the paper.

Went to get hangover food. Take the meds and drink some water. And don’t leave before I get back.

Luke

Whatever Luke had in mind for hangover food sounded amazing, and I smiled at his chicken scratch handwriting.

Since I knew where I was, some of the panic had subsided, and bits and pieces from the night before were falling into place.

I remembered finding the bar, taking shots, and then being surprised yet thrilled to see Josh behind the bar. I recalled Luke arriving at the bar, talking to Josh for a few minutes, and some of the dancing—although the memories of dancing were foggy. I also had a vague memory of Harley Quinn in triplicate.

I remembered seeing Luke close the door behind him as he left his room. I didn’t think he came back after that, and judging by the other side of the bed, which was still in pristine condition, I assumed that was true.

I remembered that stupid “Expect the Unexpected” sign that I stared at before I walked in and then glanced at again when I left with Luke. It was hazier the second time, the words were blurred by my drunken stupor, but I remembered it. And how well it fit my current situation.

I was beyond embarrassed. Getting drunk at a bar by myself was very uncharacteristic of me. But panic washed over me anew when I remembered the events that led to me seeking out the bar in the first place. The events leading up to me getting drunk alone on Halloween flooded my mind. Sweat beaded on my upper lip and around my hairline.

Michael got home when Luke was there. Not only when Luke was there but while Luke was sweaty and shirtless in my living room. After he fixed the coffee table, I should have asked him to leave, but I couldn’t find the strength to do it.

I had been cleaning all day. I had moved every piece of furniture, washed all the sheets, and even climbed on top of the counters to dust the top of the kitchen cabinets. I was exhausted, and when Luke offered his help with the table, I took advantage of his kindness, eagerness to help, and, well, his large muscles.

The house was supposed to be spotless when Michael got home, but instead, he arrived before I could fix everything—including my appearance—and before I could hide our neighbor. Our neighbor who was sweaty, big, and concerned. The one who made my whole body hot and made it miserably difficult to breathe when we were in the same room.

I knew immediately when I heard the garage door that it wasn’t going to end well. The scraping and grinding of the gears and the metal door creaking higher and higher echoed through our little house.

Luke had touched the back of my neck, where I knew the bruise was visible. The way he said my name was like a soft plea, but what did he want me to do?

No one understood.

And I couldn’t comprehend the intense reaction my body had when his fingertips touched my skin. His touch was so soft against my tender spine, and his thumb brushing back and forth over the spot felt like he was trying to wipe it away.

Then I did what I always did: I explained away the marks with an accident. Maybe slightly unbelievable at times, but no one really pried further. Luke looked like he wanted to, though, and that scared me even more.

Then he hesitated, with determination and another silent plea in his eyes, but ultimately left when Michael insinuated he wanted alone time with me. Michael was concerned that I was in the house alone with a man we barely knew. He was upset, and he was concerned.

I understood.

After reasoning with him that Luke was our friend—both of ours and our neighbor—I thought the topic was dropped. But when I stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered, dressed and ready to go to my early birthday dinner, I could smell the alcohol on Michael’s breath and felt the frustration in his fingers as he kneaded my upper arm.

His doubt was palpable. He yelled, and I raised my voice back, although it couldn’t be called a yell. I didn’t want to yell at him. And when I realized I could no longer reason with him, I ran.

I never ran. I always stayed and tried to find a way to make peace. But something in me told me I needed to leave, so for once, I listened to the voice in the back of my head and let it lead me to that damn bar.

I felt at peace for a minute of the car ride before I realized he’d be even angrier when I returned. Because I had to return. He was my fiancé, and he had a right to be mad that his partner ran out on him.

So, during my panic attack sitting in the bar parking lot, I sent him a text that said I’d be back soon and I needed a moment to myself. Much to my dismay, he never responded, and a moment turned into several margaritas, which turned into Luke picking me up and bringing me back to his house.

I needed to find my phone and my purse, I decided. I also needed to figure out how to get my car which I assumed was still at the bar.

I gave Sadie a few final head scratches and walked into the bathroom to inspect my appearance in the mirror. I was surprised that I didn’t look as deathly as I felt, thanks to the expensive makeup Michael convinced me to buy a few weeks ago.

I was also surprised that for a bachelor pad, Luke’s room was clean and mostly tidy. For a man with thick, dark facial hair, there weren’t any hairs in the sink or the counter and the few bottles in his shower were organized. There were still clothes around the laundry hamper instead of inside, but I wouldn’t expect any different.

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