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His hand on my cheek keeps us still, and we’re both relaxed and completely sated. I feel his breaths against my lips while he presses our foreheads together. That was the most intense night of my life, and even though I know we’re both only here on vacation to have fun, I can’t help but think that’s how sex is meant to be, and I’ve been missing out.
If that’s the case, my expectations just doubled.
“You’re really beautiful, you know that?” Alex whispers, breaking the silence.
“Thank you.” I smile lightly as a blush surfaces. I don’t know why him giving me a compliment after what we just did embarrasses me, but luckily, it’s too dark for him to notice.
“I’m going to clean us up and get some water before one of us passes out from dehydration.” He smirks, pressing his lips to mine before moving off the bed.
“Considering how much we drank tonight, it’s actually possible considering seventy-five percent of Americans suffer from chronic dehydration and don’t even know it.” I lean back as he walks toward the bathroom, and I smack myself in the head. I am so lame.
His chuckles echo from the bathroom, and I want to die from embarrassment. Grabbing an oversized T-shirt, I slip it on and start fussing with my hair. It’s a complete mess, but considering it’s sex hair, I kind of don’t mind.
When he returns, he’s holding a cup of water and a towel for me. I thank him and gulp down the water before climbing into bed next to him. He eyes the old T-shirt and tells me to remove it because sleeping naked is the “best thing ever,” and I’m too satisfied to argue, so I shrug it off and climb into bed next to him. Way too exhausted to analyze the fact that Alex is sleeping in bed next to me, I let him wrap me up in his arms and hold me until I fall asleep.
Oh. My. God.
It’s the only words my brain forms as my eyes flutter open and my head begins to pound. I’m thirsty and desperate for a glass of water. The sun blares through the windows and patio door and announces it’s morning. Groaning, I roll over, and the first thing I see is a bare muscular chest and that sexy V that leads to one of the happiest places on earth.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
I blink hard to confirm I’m not dreaming, and when he rustles, I know I’m not.
The images of our drunken night together come in quick flashes, and that’s when my mini freak-out happens because hooking up on vacation wasn’t really on my things-to-do list. Even if Natalie was very persistent on it being the only thing on my list.
All my insecurities about men and dating come rushing through me, and I think what the hell did I just do?
Thinking back, I try to remember how this happened. He had me the moment our eyes met, and somehow, he’s now asleep in my bed. The only things I can blame is the tequila, loneliness, and that deep Southern accent that’s sexy as sin. What a dangerous combo. However, if I’m pointing fingers, then Natalie gets her fair share of the blame too, just for encouraging this.
I can’t remember the last time I had a one-night stand but can definitely see why I haven’t made it a habit. It’s awkward as fuck. Do I continue lying with him and assume everything is fine or do I get the hell away before he can reject me first? As I’m contemplating my options, I realize we’re in my hotel room, so escaping before he wakes isn’t even a choice. Trying to stay calm, I close my eyes tight, hoping he’ll disappear, and I won’t have to make any decisions, but when I peel them back open, no such luck.
Knowing I can’t lie here any longer while my mind races, I decide to jump in the shower with hopes that when I get out, he’ll be gone. Surely, he’s done the one-night stand thing before and he’ll know that is his cue to leave.
However, as soon as I move, a large arm wraps around my bare waist and pulls me close. My eyes widen when his length presses hard on my back. When he smiles against my ear, I nearly melt into him, forgetting all the warning alarms that are going off in my head.
I’m not doing this. I can’t do the pretend couple thing. Not after everything I’ve gone through in the past six months. I’d be stupid to let myself get attached again, even for only a week. All I can think is, he has to go. I need time to process my thoughts, process what happened, and where we go from here. Maybe I’m making this more complicated than it needs to be, but one-night stands are not in my repertoire. Somehow, I can hear Natalie’s voice tell me that they are now, and I should just have unadulterated fun for the last week we’re here.
