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Just when I realized I was going to have to actually open my eyes to locate the missing pillow, what felt like an entire bucket of ice-cold water was dumped on my head. Holy fuck!
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
My eyes jolted open from the shock of the water assaulting my face. The adrenaline that simultaneously surged through my veins had my body springing from the bed, my fists sailing through the air, ready to defend myself to the death.
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
I took in the girl who stood before me as I tried to steady my breathing. She was gesticulating wildly as she yelled at me, frenzy overtaking her face. A flash of memory from the night before came back to me. This girl. A sexy black dress. Lots of long leg showing.
Now she was wearing a baggy sweatshirt over leggings. No makeup. Messy hair. She was damn cute. I wanted to drag her back into bed with me.
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
I felt my cock jump as I remembered flashes from our night between the sheets. And. Oh shit. I was naked. I never slept naked with a girl overnight. What if she snapped a picture of my cock while I was sleeping? It’d be all over social media in a heartbeat. Ryder had learned that lesson early on for our band.
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
She had something in her hand, which was still flapping around wildly as she yelled. A cup. It looked like one of those plastic cups to rinse your mouth out after you brushed your teeth. A small cup. She’d dumped a small cup of water on my face. I grunted at the realization. Jesus, it’d felt like I’d been waterboarded, but it was probably only a few ounces of water at most.
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
Between the damn alarm endlessly clattering and the pounding of the pulse in my ears from my adrenaline rush, I couldn’t really make out what this girl was screaming at me. There was one word that was coming through crystal clear, though.
“Fire!”
My brain was finally catching up. The fire alarm was going off. It was time to bounce.
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
As the realization sunk in, the girl turned from me, her arms still waving in the air above her head as she bolted out the bedroom door. I almost laughed out loud because she looked like a deranged muppet with crazy wiggling arms flapping around as she disappeared.
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
I looked around the room for my clothes. Her room wasn’t clean, so it wasn’t like my clothing rested in a pile on her pristine floor. There were clothes everywhere. And other junk girls tended to accumulate was littered everywhere — on dressers, on the floor, and absolutely overflowing a chair. Jesus, the more I looked, the more of a pig I realized this girl was. There were old plates with leftover moldy food on them scattered about. Soda cans everywhere. A few beer bottles. Papers, books, and notebooks strewn around the room. Lots of shoes. Just shit everywhere.
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
Near the foot of the bed, I saw what looked like a pair of men’s jeans. I picked them up and recognized them at once. One of my favorite pairs. Well worn. Ripped in all the right places, not by a razor, but by years of use. They fit my body perfectly. I’d wear these jeans until they disintegrated. I poked around the clothes lying near where I found my jeans, searching for my boxer briefs.
I didn’t find them, but fished my wallet from the bottom of the pile. Thank goodness. Luckily, my jeans were broken in and comfortable because I’d have to go commando. I didn’t have time to dick around here.
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
I slipped on my jeans while scanning the ground for my T-shirt, but quickly realized that was hopeless. I’d never find it in this mess. As I moved toward the door, I glanced out the narrow window in the bedroom. I was up on about the fifth floor. I had been focused on other things when we’d stumbled in last night, so I was surprised to see that this must be a big apartment building. A ton of people had gathered on the lawn and road in front of the building. Some were wearing jackets. Some had blankets draped over their shoulders. This was Los Angeles, but November could be damn cold at times. Most of the crowd was looking up toward the apartment building. Some were even pointing. Two things hit me. I needed more clothes, and I needed to get the fuck out of here. Right now.
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
My eyes landed on a sweatshirt. I grabbed it and held it up, inspecting its size. It was probably huge on the girl — I still couldn’t remember her name — but it wasn’t quite my size. It would do in an emergency. I pulled it on as I stepped through the bedroom door into the rest of her apartment.
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
The apartment was clear. No smoke. No fire. No sign of the girl or any roommates. I crossed the front room toward the entry door and felt for heat before I cautiously opened it. Peeked into the hall. All clear.
Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!
I followed the exit signs toward the stairwell, pleased my brain was making the right choices — checking for fire and not using the elevator. I jogged down five flights of stairs, all while the blaring alarm spurred me on to move even faster.
Finally, I pushed out into the brisk fresh air, where the sound of the alarm was more muted. It no longer felt like it was boring into my brain. Outside, it was cold, and I was grateful I’d grabbed the sweatshirt. Unfortunately, it was a salmon-pink color. I glanced down at it. It was way too tight. The sleeves were too short. It had the word ‘Princess’ written across the chest in a shiny gold script.
