Page 26 of Stepping Up to the Plate

“I am so embarrassed. Please tell me I didn’t make a mess everywhere.”

“I could but I try not to lie.”

I groan.

“Don’t worry, I cleaned up after I got you back into bed. I did change you out of your dress, though. I figured you didn’t want to sleep in your own vomit all night.”

“Kill me now,” I cry into my pillow.

“It’s okay, doll. You’re not the first person I’ve helped after they drank too much and you are way cuter than Kent after blowing your grits.”

“What are you still doing here?” I question.

“For one, you asked me not to leave. You said you didn’t want to be alone.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Second, I figured you may not remember everything we discussed last night. I want to make sure we’re on the same page so you don’t go back to avoiding me. I’m guessing you don’t remember, and we need to rehash the conversation?”

“Do we have to? Can’t we forget all of this ever happened?”

“We could, but I don’t want to.”

“Why not?” I whine.

Instead of answering me right away, he rolls us so he is on top of me peering down. I shiver at the change in position. He gives me an indulgent smile as if he is thrilled by my reaction and the previous nights’ event. Even barely awake he looks like a freaking God. I notice that he’s still in the clothes he had on at the party and he’s on top of the covers. It was thoughtful of him not to crawl into bed with me in his underwear. It makes me more confident assuming nothing happened between us.

After surveying the scene, I meet his eyes and see he is still grinning at me. Though, it now has a cocky edge, as if he could hear my thoughts.

“I don’t want to forget what happened,” he says, “because I want us to move forward. If we have this weird awkward situation between us, that will never happen.

“I said it last night, but I will tell you again. There was a mix up at the club and your file got switched with someone else’s who was into degradation. I was surprised they matched me with you because that is not my thing but I figured they knew I could be adaptable. I should’ve noticed you were uncomfortable way sooner, but I didn’t and that is all on me.

“I don’t think you’re any of the things I said to you. I didn’t think them then and I don’t think them now. In fact, I don’t think them about any woman. Degradation is a sexual preference and there is nothing shameful or wrong about that as long as it is between two consenting parties.

“Despite the difference in preferences, I was drawn to you that night and was upset that I wasn’t able to make things right once I realized what happened.”

I scoff. “Of course, you were drawn to me, I was half naked and there to be fucked.”

“No,” he admonished. “I was drawn to you even before you took your dress off. Something about you made me want to bundle you up and whisper sweet nothings in your ear while I made you cry out in pleasure. The desire was quite at odds with the instructions I was given and the fact that I made you cry in other ways.

“I’ve also felt a pull to you –Lola, not mystery sex partner – since I met you that first day in the elevator. I thought you were adorable and sexy without even trying. You had this sweet personality that I want to bask in and these sad eyes I want to make shine again.

“I know this is a lot to process and may seem like it’s coming out of nowhere, so I’ll give you some time – not a lot, but some. But make no mistake, sweet girl. I have every intention of making you mine.”

“Yours?” I respond, confused.

“Yeah, baby, mine. Now, how about we get some breakfast? You need food to soak up all that crap you drank last night.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I admit.

It is,” he replies confidently. I go to argue but he puts his finger to my lips and tips my chin up to his forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Here’s what is going to happen. You’re going to drink the glass of water I left on your nightstand and take some Tylenol before hopping in the shower. I’m going to head to my place and do the same. In thirty minutes, I'll be back at your door to take you to get a greasy breakfast that will refresh you more than any other hangover cure can.

“While there, we can talk more about last night, what happened at the club, or simply get to know each other – whatever you need to feel comfortable moving forward. Then I’ll bring you home and walk you back to your door before going to the gym. Tonight, I will text you and make plans for when we can get together again.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask hesitantly.

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