Page 50 of The Wicked

“Indeed I did.”

“And speaking of toilets, I need to pee. Where can I pee?”

“At this time of night? There might be a bar open in Cottage Grove. I’ll stop when I see somewhere.”

“How far is that?”

“Ten minutes.”

“What if there’s nowhere open?”

“Then you’ll have two options—hold it or find a bush. Please don’t piss on my car seat.”

“I won’t. I swear I won’t, but I really need to go.”

And maybe I wanted to puke too? My stomach felt all churny, and everything was a blur. The trees, the car lights that zipped past, Charming’s handsome and slightly grouchy face. Why was he grouchy? Didn’t he have a good time tonight? I had a good time apart from the last bit where he punched the guy, and had he bruised his knuckles? I tried to check, but my vision was super weird. Kinda hazy and black around the edges. My eyes began to close. Perhaps sleep was the better option?

Yes, sleep.

Sleep was good.

17

SARA

My temples throbbed as I turned over in bed, and I just knew that today’s headache was going to be a monster. Over the past several weeks, I’d suffered from more headaches than usual, but that was perfectly understandable. It wasn’t every month that a girl’s life fell apart completely. That was why I’d started leaving a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water on my nightstand, ready for action in the morning. I’d swallow a couple of pills, then burrow back under the covers and wait for them to work their magic.

I reached out for the bottle, but instead of the comforting presence of over-the-counter medication, my hand landed on…flesh? Warm flesh? My eyes flew open, and I gasped so hard I almost choked on my own tongue.

There’s a man in bed with me.

Horror clawed its way up my throat as I asked myself a thousand questions. Who was he? How had he gotten into the pool house? What did he—

Wait.

This wasn’t the pool house.

Light filtered in through gauzy drapes, and among the soft shadows, I picked out the silhouette of a pair of couches and a coffee table on the far side of the room. A studio apartment? Through an open door to the right, reflections bounced off a bathtub, but the most notable thing was space. This apartment took minimalism to a whole new level.

The guy beside me turned onto his back, and I recognised Charming. Even in semi-darkness, there was no mistaking the line of his jaw. He’d brought me home with him? Had we…? I lifted the sheet and found myself wearing an oversized T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, neither of which belonged to me. He’d changed my clothes? I mean, abducting me from work was one thing, but what gave him the right to strip me and touch me? I pressed my thighs together, testing, but everything felt normal down there. Sex in the past had never been comfortable, so if we’d—

Are you sure the thigh thing doesn’t count?

Oh. My. Gosh.

What had I told him last night?

Hazy memories flitted back, of me running my mouth in the car, of me groping him, of him hauling me out of the passenger seat, pulling down my leggings, and holding me up by the armpits as I squatted to pee in the grass at the side of the road. Of him twisting my hair back as I puked up my poor judgment. Of him carefully clipping my seat belt back into place and sighing as he shook his head. Of him carrying me into an elevator sometime in the early hours.

Oh boy, had I messed up.

And by “messed up,” I meant that I’d taken my fairy tale and run it through the garbage disposal, then shoved the sorry remains through a wood chipper, doused them in gas, and set them on fire. And after that, I’d swept up the ashes, encased them in concrete, and tossed them into the ocean. Charming had taken me skydiving, bought me dinner, and danced with me for hours, whereupon I’d thanked him by vomiting on his shoes.

I need to get out of here.

The walk of shame would be, well, shameful, but at least I’d been too inebriated to blurt out my home address last night. Being delivered into Parker’s and EJ’s loving arms would have been the icing on the cake, and the twins would have undoubtedly found some way to make my stupidity go viral on social media. I crept out of bed and found my phone charging on the nightstand. I also realised I was still wearing my bra and panties, thank goodness, and—bizarrely—my socks. The rest of my clothes had disappeared, but my purse was on the coffee table, wallet intact. I had a credit card. A cab home from…wherever this was would probably be expensive, but my inheritance ambitions were dead. What did it matter if I spent my savings? Heck, I should swing by the Coffee House for donuts on the way to The Lookout because Addy said that carbs were a girl’s best friend in the event of a breakup. Not that this was a breakup, exactly. More the loss of a-dream-that-might-have-been.

I found a door and tiptoed out of it, but instead of finding myself in a hallway, I was in a room even larger than the one I’d just left. Holy crap, Charming’s bedroom was bigger than the entire pool house. And the great room, that was a vast space dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows and a significant number of oversized canvases. Paintings. Mostly women—naked women—and a few couples. Kind of abstract, but there was no mistaking what they were meant to be, and some of the poses made me blush. What was this, the Kama Sutra? I tilted my head to one side, trying to work out how one pretzel-like position was even possible. Those people must have a good chiropractor.

---