Page 74 of A Really Bad Idea

“Friends.” He’s looking at the plush carpeting of the hotel room.

I scurry to the bathroom and close the door behind me, leaning my back against the door and taking myself in. My reflection shows the afterglow of a woman who had mind-blowing sex—rumpled hair, smeared eyeliner, swollen lips, and a rosy tint to her entire body.

Damn.

I cling the shirt closer to my body and inhale his woodsy cologne.

I had sex with Christian.

My cheeks blush in the mirror as I recall the way his body felt on top of me, inside me. I will have some dangerous fantasies to look back on when this is all over.

When it’s over …

I run a hand over my chest and take a deep inhale. My heart is skipping. If what we felt was an earthquake, the tingles running over my skin are from the aftershock.

We got caught up in the moment. A planned moment, but we still fell into it—hard.

I stare at myself a moment too long, taking in this new me. For a while, I equated sex with treason. The thought of trusting someone enough to let myself go seemed unachievable. How could one enjoy sex after heartbreak? I often wondered. I’m finding, when you give yourself to someone who helped you pick up the pieces, it’s easy.

I freshen up and run my fingers under my eyes to put my makeup back in place. My hair takes a little longer to polish since I don’t have a brush. Despite my just-had-sex look, I’m feeling confident as I open the door. That is, until I see Christian standing at the foot of the bed, wearing his slacks and shoes and holding his jacket.

“You’re leaving.” I try not to sound bewildered.

He runs his fingers over his hair. “I didn’t think you’d want to stay. You don’t have a bag or anything. The only thing you have to wear is the dress. Unless you want to stay. We could—”

“No. Leaving sounds good.” I clear my throat.

Christian booked the room, but clearly, he doesn’t have a bag either, so he must have only planned on having sex. That’s good. We don’t want to blur any lines here. Right?

My dress is now lying on the bed with my bra and panties next to it. I take them off the sheets and hurry back into the bathroom.

“Give me a minute,” I say as I close the door.

My heart that was at the forefront of my chest before slams into my back. My shoulders roll forward as I let out a huff. What did I think would happen? We’d go for round two and make out until the sun came up?

I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. I’m a romantic. I believe in sweet moments and happy ever afters. Not that I necessarily thought Christian wanted one with me. I just never had sex with a man in a hotel room and then left. Then again, I have been out of the dating pool a really long time. Maybe this is what people do in their thirties?

When my clothes are back on, I push my shoulders back and lift my chin, exiting the bathroom with his collared shirt in my hands. “Here you go,” I say with a smile.

His eyes lower as his hand stretches out. “We don’t have to leave. I should have told you to bring an overnight bag. I only booked the room this afternoon and didn’t say anything because I’d told you I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t. I just wanted to be prepared.”

“You always are,” I say. “And you’re right. We should go.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to stay and walk out of here in the morning in an evening gown.”

“And do the walk of shame? No, thank you.” I wave a hand in dismissal. “It’s not like I have a ho bag or anything.”

He grins with a hitched brow. “A what?”

Grabbing my clutch off the dresser, I tuck it under my arm. “Never mind. You ready?”

His beseeching gaze squints at me as if doing a double take at my nonchalant attitude.

“Almost.” His voice sounds unconvinced as he steps into the bathroom.

The door closes, and I flop to the bed, hitting myself in the forehead with my clutch. “What did you think would happen? You’d cuddle all night and pick out baby names?” I pull the brush out of my bag and give my hair a swipe, making it fray on the bottom—opposite of the look I was going for.

The door opens, and Christian comes into view, drying his hands with a white towel. His shirt now on and tuxedo in place, he doesn’t look like he just had rampant sex.