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But I can deal with that tomorrow because now…I just want to forget…
“Peyton!”
Everything happens in slow motion. I want to yell out to Cayden to help me, but my lips are slack. All I can manage is a pained groan. But it’s enough. He’s bursting through the door a second later, cocooning me into his arms.
“What happened?” He attempts to lift my face gently, but I’m like a rag doll and have no control over my limbs. I feel like overcooked spaghetti. “Fuck,” he hisses, and I’ve never heard him so angry before.
His response scares me, and I begin to panic. What’s wrong? “Cay…den…” I manage to mumble, but it’s a jumble of words. Everything hurts.
“Shh…it’ll be all right. I promise. I’m going to lift you up. Okay?” My head lolls to the side as I attempt to nod.
I’ve never been more mortified in my life, but when he lifts me gently and shelters me with his scent, I forget about my humiliation and finally surrender to the darkness.
My head hurts. No, it doesn’t just hurt. It fucking throbs.
I have no idea where I am. Actually, I have no idea what the hell happened. The last thing I remember is…think. A shiver racks my body as I don’t want to believe my mind has failed me again. But this is different this time. It’s not amnesia…it’s like I didn’t exist.
“Peyton?” That voice is my forever beacon to this plane.
As I rub my nose into the smooth silk and am engulfed by the ocean, I know where I am. I’m safe because Cayden is here.
My surface becomes rocky, and only then do I realize I’m lying in someone’s bed. It’s not mine, so that can only mean it’s Cayden’s. “How’re you feeling?”
I have severe cotton mouth, and I’m certain my eyes are glued shut, but other than that, I think I’m fine.
“What do you remember?”
Regardless of my pounding headache, I attempt to sit, but I abruptly realize I’m not wearing any clothes. That has my eyes snapping wide open. “Ow.” I squint as the bright light burns. But I have other pressing matters to deal with like exactly where my clothes are.
With fumbling fingers, I keep the sheet pressed to my chest as I wearily lift myself into a half-seated position. The headboard is my savior and stops me from dropping back down. It takes me a few moments, but I’m eventually able to focus and see Cayden sitting at the foot of the bed.
His hair is ruffled, and he’s topless. My stomach drops.
Lifting the sheet to confirm I am indeed naked, I slap it back down when I see that I am. Cayden watches me closely. Oh, my God. What have I done? “Did—did we…?” I motion back and forth between us, hoping he understands my gestures.
He’s visibly stumped until he witnesses my cheeks burst into flames. “No. No,” he says a little louder the second time around. “Of course not.”
“Thank God.” I exhale, my heart returning to a semi-normal speed. I don’t understand why he appears a touch hurt, but then I realize my choice of words probably wasn’t the best I could use when referring to us not having sex.
However, that doesn’t explain why I’m naked in his bed.
“Where are my clothes?”
“They’re in the wash.”
“Why?”
“Because they were covered in vomit,” he replies, never breaking eye contact.
This just goes from bad to worse. “Did you undress me?”
He threads both hands through his hair. “Yes.”
I don’t understand any of this. “W-why?”
He doesn’t make a move, and I’m thankful. “What do you remember from last night?”
Churning through the smog, I grasp a memory that I’m certain is one I didn’t fabricate. “Playing pool. You leaving to take a call.” I attempt to dig deeper, but I hit a brick wall. “That’s it.”
Cayden grinds down on his jaw. This can’t be good. “I found you semi-conscious in the bathroom. The moment I picked you up, you passed out. I was going to take you to the hospital, but I brought you here first. I don’t know why. I just…” He shakes his head as if he’s still questioning his actions. “I didn’t want you to wake up in a hospital room again, not knowing what happened or where you were. I didn’t want you to be alone.” He lowers his eyes, clearly ashamed of his actions, but what he doesn’t realize is that it’s the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.
“Where did you sleep?” I ask bashfully, focusing on one drama at a time.
“I didn’t.” He hooks his thumb to the chair in the corner of the room. It’s pressed up against the door like he was keeping watch, ready to spring into action and protect me if need be. “I only took off your dress. I promise. In the middle of the night, you stripped off the rest. I didn’t see a thing. I felt your forehead, and you were burning up. Just when I was about to call the paramedics, you settled and fell into a peaceful sleep.”
Cayden is worried about my modesty. After everything he just told me, that’s the least of my concerns. “I guess I should probably lay off the whiskey for a while.”
It’s supposed to be a joke, but Cayden isn’t laughing. “I don’t think it was the alcohol.”
I turn my lip up, confused. “What? What else could it be?”
His chest inflates, deflates, just like my hope that this is a simple, innocent mistake. “I think you were drugged.”
“Drugged? Like a…date rape drug?” I whisper, unable to say those ugly words too loudly.
He tongues his upper lip. “Yes.”
The room starts spinning, and Cayden rushes over, gripping my arm. “That’s impossible. Laughable, in fact. Who would want to drug me?” The moment the words slip past my lips, I remember my encounter with the shady drug dealer.
“What is it?” he asks, running his thumb along my bicep.
