Page 7 of Retribution

My head pounds from the harsh lighting while I wait for the elevator to climb to this floor. Pulling out my phone, I squint, trying to make out the numbers on the front screen. It’s 3 AM.

I groan and slump down the wall, closing my eyes to avoid the intense headache brewing.

I feel myself being shaken by someone.

I just want to sleep and my head hurts.

I brush their hand from my shoulder and turn away. Instantly, my eyes spring open as a wave of nausea strikes through me.

I keel over and empty my stomach contents onto the carpeted flooring, wiping my mouth afterwards.

Slumping back against the wall, someone moves my hair out of my face and pushes it behind my shoulders. As soon as his fingers graze my skin, goosebumps spread across my body and the hair stands up on the back of my neck.

Instinctively, I angle my body towards them, catching a glimpse of the person sitting beside me. His eyes are a mesmerizing chestnut brown, matching his swooped fluffy hair. Admiring his fair complexion, my gaze drops to his plump and pink lips.

Oh, his lips.

I’m staring.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” his deep voice echoes through my head and pushes through my headache. I nod slowly as he stands up, taking my hands in his.

I shiver as my body ignites with goosebumps as I stare at the connection between our hands.

Who is this beautiful specimen of a man?

I pull myself up, trying to hold my balance as the alcohol still pulses through my system. Wrapping one arm around my waist, he steadies me, allowing me to lean slightly on him. We turn away from the elevators and down the corridor that I have a vague memory of.

We reach a door, and he fumbles in his pocket, pulling out some keys and unlocking it. He flips on a light switch, introducing me to a small apartment, a kitchenette and living room visible. The next thing I remember is the warm comfort of a blanket and a soft pillow beneath my head.

And I sleep.

I roll over to pull the blanket closer to me and open one eye to check the time. Where is my alarm clock?

Sitting up and looking around the room, I come to the realization that this is not my apartment.

Oh fuck.

What happened last night?

I instantly enter panic mode and hop out of the bed, knocking over a glass of water on the nightstand. Turning to the commotion, I see two tablets now dissolving in the puddle of water on the surface and an empty glass on the floor. A beam of light floods the bedroom, as the door behind me opens.

“Is everything okay?”

A very attractive-looking man appears in the doorway, a concerned look etched across his face. My mouth gapes open as I glance from the unkempt bed to his disheveled look.

“Um…” The confusion is clear through my tone.

“Don’t worry, nothing happened, I swear. I’m not that kind of guy.” He declares quickly.

I glance at him again, nothing about him is concerning. Internally, I’m just glad I haven’t gotten myself into a mess that I can’t get out of.

“Well, I’m thankful that you’re ‘not that kind of guy’,” I chuckle.

He smiles. Mm, I’m melting.

His smile is worthy of 100 photographers waiting to capture their muse.

Shifting awkwardly on my feet, not really sure how to act, I bow my head.

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