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Chapter 1
Sebastian
“Fuckinghell,”Imutteredas I climbed out of bed.
My head pounded, and my mouth tasted like sandpaper. Part of me knew I was too old for this shit.
The dull throb in the back of my head only got worse once I opened my eyes.
I slipped my feet into the leather slippers. “Never again,” I mumbled.
“You didn’t have a good time, baby?”
I snapped my head toward the voice, and my stomach churned.
“Who the hell are you?” I pressed my fingers to the sides of my temples.
“Taylor,” the woman replied. Her voice was high-pitched and girlish.
“Women don’t sleep in my bed.”
“They do.”
I turned around to take a better look at her: a bottle blonde with a full face of makeup and fake tits barely contained in a tiny lacy bra.
“Didn’t I send you home last night?”
She blinked, feigning innocence. “Before or after I sucked you off?”
I sighed.
“If you are referring to after, then no. You had a few more shots of tequila and then passed out.”
“Didn’t you have red hair last night?”
She looked at me like I was a fool. “That was Sasha. She left after you passed out.” Taylor glanced around my bedroom. “She may have taken a few parting gifts.”
I groaned and climbed out of bed, clutching my nightstand for support.
“Everything changes when you hit forty.” The woman climbed out of bed gracefully. “At least, that’s what my mom says.”
Taylor walked to my full-length mirror and pulled her long hair into a top knot. “You have a really nice place, Sebastian.”
She looked around the large bedroom, green eyes brimming with excitement. No doubt picturing herself living here. She continued talking, but I tuned her out.
Last night…
Why the hell did I go out drinking when I had a big retail project to focus on?
I blinked through the fog of the hangover and remembered—Rebecca Cavanaugh. My soon-to-be fiancé. I ran my hands over the stubble on my face and glanced at the clock.
“I’m going to be late.” I grabbed a bottle of water from the nightstand and finished it in three gulps. “I need a shower, and you need to leave.”
She frowned. “I thought we would spend the morning together.”
“Hell, no. You should have left last night.”
She opened one of my drawers, and before I could close it, she pulled out a small velvet box. “Who’s this ring for?”
