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What the hell was in that one drink I had at the party? Surely all that wasn’t just a dream.
Soft lips press against my neck, sliding down to my shoulder, as a leg comes up between mine. Thad’s grip changes, and he squeezes my breast in his hand. I feel his smile against my neck, but I’m still drowning in the surrealism of my dream. What happened?
“I could get used this,” he mumbles in a sleep-rasp voice that stirs my blood.
Clearing my throat and ignoring the ill-timed feelings that are trying to crawl up, I ask, “What happened? I mean… when did we go to bed?”
My panties are still on and so is my bra. Obviously we went to bed without doing anything.
He shifts uncomfortably behind me, and a sigh falls between his lips as though he’s disappointed for some reason.
“You fell asleep.”
“Care to elaborate as to when?”
It all blends together too well. We left the party, he was carrying me, and we heard a scream. A guy was dead! How did reality and dreamland blur together so fiercely?
“Doesn’t matter. I didn’t want to leave you at your house, so I brought you to mine. Hungry?”
He gets up before I can even answer, and I stare down at my dress, still confused. I can almost taste the blood that was in my mouth—my blood. I was choking on it after Wendy stabbed me. What’s wrong with me?
Why is it all so vivid?
Thad’s eyes were bright yellow, and he had a hint of sharp teeth—I’d say fangs—coming down. Now I know I’m crazy if I ever thought that was real.
“You like eggs and bacon?” he calls from the kitchen.
Shaking my head to dispel the madness my mind is trying to call memories, I move through the house to join him. “I don’t get hungry until I’ve been up for a while. Sorry I fell asleep on you.”
He cocks an eyebrow, acting as though he’s about to say something, when someone knocks at the door.
“Care to grab that, love?” he asks with a sweet smile, and I—like an idiot—get those stupid butterflies in my stomach from the endearment.
I really hope I don’t turn into one of those crazy girls better known as stage-five clingers.
As he continues to rattle around some pans, I go to the door, feeling like I’m taking a walk of shame in my night-before dress. Glancing at the mirror on the wall, I also realize that I look absolutely… fine. What the hell?
My hair isn’t a rumpled mess like it usually is. My eyes aren’t tired like normal. Everything on me seems rejuvenated. Hell, even my skin looks better for some reason.
Too weird.
The second round of obnoxious knocking reminds me of the forgotten task at hand, and I swing open the door to reveal… Jenny. The hell?
“There you are,” she says, grinning as she props a hand on her hip to stare me down very knowingly.
She doesn’t know what she thinks she knows. Unfortunately.
“Here I am,” I reply dryly.
I block her view of the shirtless wonder in the kitchen who is only wearing his boxers. Both he and I are acting like it’s a normal thing to play house, which only piles up on the weird stack. But I shake it off, just as I’ve been doing all morning.
“I was wondering if Thad had Zee’s number. That guy is smoking hot, but I got too drunk too fast to talk to him. I barely remember much of last night.”
She shrugs, and I tilt my head. “What about Alex?”
Her eyebrows cock up in confusion. “Who?”
Something loud clatters in the kitchen as though Thad just dropped something, but my focus is on Jenny.
