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Wow.
That was a first for me—climaxing, in real life, due to a sex dream. It’d be the perfect way to wake up, if it weren’t for the horrific hangover making me feel like I might barf.
Yawning, I stretch and groan, letting the amazing memories from last night wash over me. That kiss with Colin! It was supernatural! And what in the dirty-talking perfection was the stuff Colin whispered into my ear afterward? I wish I could remember all of it, but I can’t. I remember him whispering about wanting to eat my pussy. I also remember him grabbing my hand and yanking my arm out of my socket and—
Oh, God.
Our mothers.
I remember now.
We turned that corner, and there they were.
Shit.
Did Colin ever text me last night to finish what we started downstairs? Did I pass out before receiving his text? I reach for my phone, but before I’ve swiped into my texts, Colin’s name pops onto my screen as an incoming call.
“Good morning,” I say, my heart racing with excitement.
“Good morning,” Coin replies. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Nope, I’m up.”
“Can we talk? I’m standing in the hallway. I’m not sure which room is yours.”
My stomach sinks. Colin’s tone isn’t flirtatious. On the contrary, it’s tense and apologetic. Regretful. And I know, just this fast, this “talk” he wants to have isn’t code for “let’s finish what we started last night!” No, Colin genuinely wants to talk. Undoubtedly, about our kiss being a horrible, awful, regrettable mistake.
“Uh, sure. Give me five minutes.”
“Take your time.”
“I’ll let you into my room to sit while you wait for me.”
“Great.”
I head to the door and open it, and sure enough, Colin is standing in the hallway in sweats and a T-shirt. Oddly, though, he’s not facing me. He’s facing the room immediately across from mine.
“Hi.”
Colin whirls around and palms his forehead. “Well, that explains it.” Shaking his head, he points. “708.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about. And I’m too nervous about my impending doom to ask. So, I simply open the door and let him pass inside.
Colin’s body language is as tight as his voice was on the phone, confirming my earlier hunch. He’s here to tell me last night was a mistake that will never happen again.
“What’s up?” I ask, my stomach twisting into knots.
“Why don’t you do whatever you need to do first,” he says, gesturing to the bathroom. “And then we’ll talk.”
“Great,” I squeak out lamely.
Once inside the bathroom, I close the door, put my phone on the counter, and do the bare minimum of my morning routine. But when I grab my phone again, intending to head back into the room to face my certain slaughter, I’m slammed with a montage of memories that stops me in my tracks.
Ball Peen Hammer. Blue hair and dimples. The Sure Thing!
Oh, God.
Get your hot ass to my room! Eat my pussy and do The Sure Thing to me! Fuck my brains out until we both see God!
No, no, no!
Please, God, no!
Our amazing kiss fulfilled my biggest childhood fantasy about you.
Now it’s time for you to fulfill my far more adult fantasies about you.
My pulse quickening, I swipe into my texts with Colin . . . and instantly turn unalive when I see my two, unanswered texts. Panicking, I quickly google, “How to unsend a text,” and it’s instantly clear from the results I’m totally fucked.
I tilt my head back, willing aliens to beam me up from this hotel bathroom and disappear me forever. But little green men don’t come to save me, and I know I can’t remain in this bathroom forever. And so, eventually, I take a deep breath, pull up my proverbial big-girl panties, and drag my hung over, embarrassed ass into the next room.
Colin rises from an armchair when I appear. And when I wordlessly take a seat on the edge of the bed, inviting him to crush me with whatever hammer he’s got at the ready, Colin resumes his seat and takes a deep, halting breath.
“About last night,” he begins. “I was really drunk.”
It’s all I can handle. Colin’s remorseful tone, the look of apology on his face, everything about his body langue is screaming his message, loud and clear. He feels sick about what happened last night.
“I was shitfaced,” I blurt. “Smashed. I barely remember anything that happened.”
He looks deeply relieved. “Same.” He pauses. “You remember me kissing you?”
Of course, I do, dumbshit. “Yeah, I think I vaguely remember that.”
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he says. “You’re like a little sister to me. “
Okay, well, hold on a minute there, sir, I think. I mean, I could understand Colin saying he’s not attracted to me, when he’s sober. I could understand him saying the alcohol gave him epic beer goggles. Or perhaps made him pity me. But I can’t accept the idea that booze made Colin kiss his little sister, and grind his hard-on into her, and say he wanted to eat her pussy, unless he’s willing to admit that exact same scenario could happen with one of his actual sisters, if he’d consumed the same amount of booze as he did last night.
