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Shelly
Iwake in the mostcomfortable bed I’ve ever slept in. When I blink open my eyes and stretch, I inhale a warm masculine scent that reminds me of sun-warmed sand and ocean breeze. Then I remember.
I sit so suddenly my head spins and I groan. But when I look to either side on the enormous mattress, I’m alone. OK, so where’s the gorgeous guy I went home with?
A tap, tap from the doorway makes me look around. He comes in holding a tray with a large glass of juice and some buttered toast. He looks unreasonably good for someone who might have just woken up. He’s wearing light chinos with a white polo neck shirt that is unbuttoned down the front, revealing a glimpse of sculpted, smooth chest. Perhaps he’s an early riser and has been waiting for me to wake for hours. Oh god, how embarrassing.
“Hi,” I croak.
I can’t even remember if we had sex last night. The last thing I remember was falling asleep on him in the taxi. Shit. I probably drooled on him, didn’t I?
“Good morning. How are you feeling?”
My stomach rumbles loudly and I clutch at it in mortification. “Sorry. And sorry for whatever I did or said last night.”
He smiles. “No. Not at all. You’re very charming when you’re drunk.”
I put my face into my palm and peek at him around my fingers, but he’s still smiling. Maybe he means it. “Um... Rosh?”
He nods.
“Did we...” I gesture between us, my cheeks heating and probably turning a violent shade of red.
He shakes his head. “No. Like I said last night, nothing untoward. But I would like to ask you again about our agreement. Just to make sure you really understand what you’re signing up for.”
Oh, thank god.
But also, I’m just a little bit disappointed. Even if I can’t remember it, I’d still love to have bragging rights over having been with someone this gorgeous. Even if I’d never actually brag about it.
I return his smile and accept the breakfast tray, taking a big sip of juice. My head feels instantly cooler and clearer. “OK. Do I remember right that you wanted someone to go with you to your sister’s wedding?”
“Correct. If you agree, we fly out in two hours and we’ll be back on Sunday night. I’ll cover all expenses, of course. Don’t worry about packing. I’ll have someone pick you up some things which will be there when we arrive.” He breaks off, but continues watching me like there’s something else he wants to say, but he’s not sure if he should.
I pause with the glass halfway to my lips. “What? Don’t tell me it’s a theme wedding. It’s not, is it? I mean if you want me to dress up in some silly outfit, I’ll totally do it. God. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
