Page 8 of Something Borrowed

Whatever, who am I kidding? I don’t even care. I love causing shit. I love doing stupid things. This particular stupid thing is way up on my list of achievements, but I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks.

Glancing at my phone, I see a ton of messages from my friends.

Scrolling through them, I get the gist of their panic, amusement, and desperate need for an update. I chuckle to myself and immediately regret it.

My head is pounding like a steady drum beat. Thump. Thump. Thump.

I groan loudly, reaching my hand up to massage the headache out of my skull, but it’s locked inside there.

Fuck.

I drank way too much last night.Again.

But at least I remember everything. I’m not one of those people that forget or have to find out from their friends what happened afterwards. I always remember everything.

Even though I might have preferred to pretend like I don’t remember this specific thing.

I can’t believe I slept with Rufino Vece. The Viking of a man I am now sprawled across.

Mm. It was fun, though. Like the fun where you are pushing boundaries, but that’s what makes it ten times better. And damn - he played my body like a musical instrument. The things he did to me.

No, wait, I can’t get carried about remembering all of that. I need to get up.

Lifting my head, I glance over his rugged face. The square jaw patterned with a dark beard, short and neat - fire red.

No wonder people call him Red.

I think he looks like a Viking.

And I have a thing for Viking looking men.

This one fits every single one of my boxes when it comes to looks.

Damn - he is gorgeous.

But also dangerous, my family’s enemy and someone I shouldnot be waking up in bed next to.

I roll off him with a huff, tugging at the sheet that is over both of us and wrapping it around my body, not caring that I climb off the bed and walk away, leaving him with nothing covering him. Besides, it gives me a chance to steal another look at him.

If I wasn’t staring at the fucking hot, sculpted body of Rufino Vece, I would climb right back into bed with him. But I can’t be stupid enough to make that same mistake twice. And this time I won’t even be able to blame it on the alcohol.

Turning away from him, ignoring the heightened buzz I get when I look at him too long, I make my way to the kitchen.

Now that I am not distracted by his hulking sex appeal, coffee is all I care about.

I bang around his kitchen, finding the cabinet with the coffee mugs and whatever else I need.

I make the most perfect cup of coffee and then lean against the kitchen counter to take my first sip. The first sip is always the best.

Hot, creamy liquid flows down my throat, soaking up the pain of my hangover and for a second I feel like I’m going to survive the day.

I sigh with satisfaction and close my eyes to enjoy it.

“Wonderful coffee?” His voice forces me to open my eyes and glare at him.

“Itwas reallygreat coffee when I could enjoy it insilence.” I chirp.

He laughs, pulling a mug out for himself.

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