We stumble into my suite at the Hilton, the city lights glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. I kick the door shut, and she's on me, her hands tugging at my shirt, buttons popping as I back her toward the bed. My lips find her neck, tasting the salt of her skin, and she gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulders. I peel off her emerald dress, revealing soft curves and pale skin that glows in the dim light. She's gorgeous, all fire and need, and I'm lost in her.
I lift her onto the bed, my hands roaming her thighs, her waist, as she arches into me. Her nails rake down my back, sharp and desperate, and I groan, pressing myself closer. Our clothes are gone in a blur. Then I'm over her, inside her, and it's intense her heat, her rhythm, the way she moves with me, matching every thrust. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper, and her moans are soft but raw, filling the room. I kiss her hard, swallowing her gasps, my hands tangled in her red hair as we move together, fast and fierce, like we're chasing something we can't name.
She clings to me, her body trembling as she reaches her peak, her nails biting into my skin, and I follow, the release hitting me like a freight train. We collapse, breathless, tangled in the sheets, her head resting on my chest. The room spins, the whiskey and her scent something sweet, like jasmine clouding my head. I don't know what this is, but I drift off, her warmth against me.
~
Sunlight slices through the floor-to-ceiling windows, stabbing my eyes as I blink awake, my head pounding like a drum. The sheets are silk, cool against my skin, and for a split second, I'm disoriented, the unfamiliar luxury of the room wrapping around me like a dream I don't belong in. Then it hits me last night, the club, the drinks, Lee. My heart lurches, and I sit up too fast, the room spinning. I'm in a massive bed in a swanky hotel suite, the Boston skyline glittering beyond the glass, and there he is Lee, sprawled beside me, still asleep, his bare chest rising and falling, dark hair mussed against the pillow. He looks unfairly gorgeous, even now, but all I feel is a tidal wave of regret crashing over me.
What was I thinking? I'm not this girl the one who hooks up with a stranger, no matter how magnetic his hazel eyes or how his touch set me on fire. Mat's betrayal is still raw, a wound barely scabbed over, and here I am, jumping into bed with some guy I don't even know? My stomach churns, not just from the hangover but from the shame clawing at me. I need to get out of here, now.
I slip from the bed, careful not to wake him, my bare feet silent on the plush carpet. My clothes are scattered across the floor like evidence of my recklessness emerald dress crumpled by the wall, silver heels kicked under a chair, my underwear nowhere in sight. I find it half-hidden under the bed, my cheeks burning as I snatch it up. I dress in a hurry, fumbling with the zipper, my hands shaky from nerves and the lingering buzz of last night's drinks. My phone's in my clutch, and I grab it, noticing the screen lit up with missed calls Michelle, over and over. The battery's at 2%, and before I can hit redial, it goes black, dead. Great.
I glance back at Lee, still out cold, his arm flung across the pillow where I was. Part of me wants to stay, to see those eyes open, to hear that low voice again, but the bigger part screams to run. This was a mistake, a desperate grab at feeling something other than broken. I sling my clutch over my shoulder and slip out the door, the click of the latch sounding final.
The cab ride to Michelle's dorm is a blur, the city waking up around me as I stare out the window, my reflection a mess of smudged eyeliner and wild red hair. My body aches, a reminder of Lee's hands, his mouth, the way we moved together. I shake my head, trying to shove the memories down, but they cling like the scent of his cologne still on my skin.
Michelle's waiting when I stumble into her apartment, her cozy little haven of fairy lights and potted plants a stark contrast to the sterile luxury of the hotel. She's in sweats, her curls tied up in a messy bun, but her eyes light up with mischief the second she sees me.
"Well, well, well," she says, crossing her arms and leaning against the kitchen counter.
"Look who's doing the walk of shame! Spill, Sparkles. I saw you leave The Pulse with that insanely hot guy tall, dark hair, total heartbreaker vibes. Who was he, and what did I miss?"
I groan, dropping my clutch on her couch and collapsing onto the cushions. "Don't, Michy. It was a mistake. I was drunk, he was drunk, and I just… I don't know what I was thinking." I bury my face in my hands, the weight of it all pressing down again.
Michelle snorts, plopping down beside me. "A mistake? Babe, you bagged a guy who looked like he walked out of a cologne ad. That's not a mistake, that's a triumph. Mat wishes he could compete with that kind of heat." She pokes my side, grinning.
"Come on, give me something. Was he good? He looked like he'd be good."
"Mish!" I swat her hand away, my face flaming, but her teasing cracks a smile out of me despite myself. "I'm not talking about it. I just wanna forget it happened and shower for, like, a year."
She laughs, undeterred, but lets it go, tossing me a clean towel from the basket by the couch. "Fine, go wash off your sins, but I'm proud of you for getting out there. You're gonna be fine, Sparkles."
I head to her tiny bathroom, the tiles cool under my feet, and crank the shower as hot as it'll go. The steam fills the space, and as I step under the spray, the water washing away the night, my mind drifts back to Lee. His hands, strong and sure, sliding down my waist. The way his lips felt against my neck, urgent, like he was starving for me. The heat of him, the way we moved together, reckless and alive, his voice rough in my ear, whispering my name Sparkles, like it was a secret he wanted to keep. My skin tingles at the memory, and I hate how much I liked it, how much I wanted it in that moment. It was too much, too fast, a fire I wasn't ready for.
I scrub harder, as if I can wash away the regret along with his scent. It was a one-night thing, a blip. He's probably some rich playboy who's already forgotten me, and I need to forget him too. I have to focus on moving forward, on not letting Mat or anyone else break me again. But as I rinse the shampoo from my hair, a small part of me wonders what would've happened if I'd stayed, if I'd seen those hazel eyes open in the morning light.