Page 1 of Waiting for Tuesday

Chapter ONE

Tuesday

* * *

Imovedthe mass of hair from my face and pushed myself to the back of the closet. My heart was beating like a drum, but my room looked exactly the same. Desk covered with invoices and partially packed orders, shabby chic furniture from my favorite secondhand shop, and shelves perfectly organized with Simply Tuesday’s products. But there was one slight difference. Today there was a man in my bed. A man I both remembered and didn’t remember at the same time. His head was barely visible beneath my over-stuffed pillows, but his body was large, naked, and sprawled across the entirety of my queen-sized mattress. I anchored my glasses to my forehead with my thumb and tried to think. He was facing in the opposite direction now, but all he had to do was roll over and he’d see me. Be eye to eye with the crazy woman he slept with last night.

Crap. What was wrong with me? I didn’t sleep with men I didn’t know. I didn’t sleep withanyone!How the hell had this happened?

Whiskers stopped at the open door and tilted his head, his large puffy face giving me a look that said he thought I’d lost my mind.

Him.

The cat that was in love with his own shadow. He made his way to the back of the closet, purring as though he didn’t have a care in the world, while I tried to figure out how to get myself out of this mess.

Clips of last night began playing in my mind like a film, and I pressed my head into the wall. The launch party with Parker Studios, too many glasses of wine, and the stranger with the perfect ass. The ass that was now naked in my bed.

I forced myself farther into the shadows and picked up my phone. I needed to text Becky. Crazy Becky! The Becky who always got me into trouble.

Me:Are you awake?

I knew the answer before I pressed send, but I didn’t care. I needed my best friend. Needed her to tell me to calm down. Needed her to help with a plan—and remind me what the hell his name was.

Becky:I am NOW. What happened with Mr. Hottie with the body?

I swallowed.She knew.

The phone buzzed with an incoming call but I rejected it.

Me:Can’t talk. He’s still here. I’m in the closet.

Becky:In the closet? Why are you in the closet?

Me:Yes. Closet. Why did you let me leave with him last night?

Becky:I didn’t LET you do anything. Why are you in the closet, Day?

I shook my head and took a deep breath. How was I supposed to answer that? I was being unfair. She wasn’t my mother, my keeper, or anything of the sort—but I felt vulnerable and stupid…sostupid.

I looked down at my phone to text a response, to explain my fight or flight reaction to waking up in bed with a stranger, to explain thatmyresponse had obviously been tofly—because I didn’t even remember how I got in the closet—but then a flash of movement shifted in my peripheral vision and I sat up straighter. I put my phone on the ground, pulled a shirt from its hanger, and dragged it over my head. He was awake.

More buzzing sounded from my phone, but I couldn’t move. Nor did I want to. My eyes were transfixed on the man I knew I’d slept with last night. The first in over a year. Since Ryan.

He looked around the room, presumably looking for me, and I held my breath. He was beautiful—perfect actually—almost too perfect. He had the type of body that happened only after long hours at the gym. I normally stayed away from men like that, yet somehow he had come home with me last night; somehow we’d ended up naked in my bed.

He pulled on his jeans, muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t understand, and grabbed his shoes off the floor. I knew I was running out of time. He was probably wondering where I was. Probably wanting another round of whatever we did last night, but I couldn’t even remember it. How was I supposed to know if I wanted to do it again?

Oh God!How would I face him again? How would I get out of this fucking closet and not look like the girl who was sitting in the back of her closet? I sucked in a long breath and pulled my knees up to my chest. I found the braid of feathers in my hair and twirled them between my fingers. They were supposed to bring calmness and peace, but I didn’t feel calm at that moment. I felt rather crazy actually. Crazy and naked. I would have laughed if I wasn’t terrified he’d hear me, a deep maniacal laugh, fitting of a girl sitting in the back of her own closet.

More buzzing sounded from my phone, and I glanced down to see three messages waiting from Becky.

Becky:Why are you in the closet, Day?

Becky:Answer me.

Becky:I’m calling the cops.

Shit!

---