Chocolate Sinner

𝚃𝚆𝙾

I fucked up, I fucked up bad. I assume it was due to the fact that I was actually fucked up.

I woke up in my apartment. How did I get back here? Could not tell you.

I was sprawled out on the carpet that lay in my living room, as my brothers hung half on-half off the couch.

My head was pounding like no other. As much as I tried, I could not piece it together the rest of the night. I recall drinking when I first arrived, my brothers dancing with some girls, seeing a man, another man approaching me as we smoked. Anything before or after that was a blur, and still, I feel as if I am missing some pieces between the lines.

In the back of my mind, I wondered if I had sex with someone. Was I safe? Was it the man? I began to flood my mind with questions when Rashad began stretching out of his sleep.

He groaned as the headache seemingly overpowered him.

"Fucking hell." He mumbled, grasping a hold of his head.

His eyes met mine and he frowned.

"The fuck happened last night?" He questioned.

"Wish I could tell you." I frowned, I don't think I had ever been that fucked in my life.

"Maybe Rakeem will know something when he wakes." He shrugs.

He gets up, walking past me to the washroom.

"Oh, my fuck." Rakeem's uncomfortable groans fill my ears.

Turning towards him, I let out a low chuckle. He definitely did not remember anything either. The fact that none of us had any memory of the events that played out last night concerned me. What did we do? Was it illegal? Did we even do anything at all? Where are our cars? Who took us home?

Rashad made his way back out of the washroom, his eyes were low and his hair messy. Rakeem looked just as fucked, and if I was not their sister for twenty-two years I would not be able to identify who is who.

"We have to figure out how we got home." He sighs, I could tell he was frustrated. But I understood because I was equally as frustrated. Why could I not remember anything? Did I really push myself that much over my limit?

"For one let's check the garage for our cars, if not maybe we uber'd back and left our cars at the club," I tell them.

"Good idea. You check, I'll stay my ass right here." Rakeem says turning over, I could see the longing for a deep slumber in his eyes. Me too Keem, me too.

Rashad picks up a pillow, colliding it with Rakeem's head.

"Let's go." He lifts him.

"I'm tired," Rakeem complains.

"Aren't we all?" I grab Tylenol out of my medicine cabinet, and then three water bottles out of the fridge.

Handing them their water and a pill each, it being extra strength and all. We all downed our pills, waiting for them to kick in. It would take time though, time I did not have. I wanted this headache gone.

I saw all our keys on my counter and let them know they were there.

"Alright. Now let's go." I nod towards the door.

We exit my condo into the elevator after I locked my door.

"I will no longer attend your birthday parties, why can you old fucks not do a nice dinner or something?" I groan.

"It's my birthday and I would not re-attend either." Rashad yawns.

Rakeem leaned against the wall sleeping, we let him rest his eyes before shaking him when we arrived at the garage. My car was not in my assigned parking space, fucking hell. After we went to the ground floor and scanned the visitations parking and we did not spot Rashad or Rakeem's cars either. So we had realized our cars were probably left at the club.

"I'm gonna get changed and then we can call an Uber to the club." I sigh.

They followed me back upstairs and waited in the living room as I brushed my teeth and got dressed. I wore a pair of ripped jeans and a plain black hoodie. I assumed they also brushed their teeth, due to the fact that the water in the guest bathroom was on as I changed. I called an uber and returned to my living room to get my brothers. Whom I had to once again wake up.

Going back downstairs our uber waited at the front of the building for us, we got in relocating his directions. Soon enough we had arrived, thanking him before exiting his vehicle.

"Thank God." I let out a breath in relief, all our cars were there in perfectly fine condition.

"I got work. I'll see you guys later. Thanks for everything Rose." Rashad daps up Rakeem and hugs me before getting in his car, driving away.

"I'm out too, but you know I'll come to see you soon." Rakeem says in an irritating tone.

"I hate you." I smile at him.

"Love you too Rose. Thanks for celebrating with us." He hugs me before speeding off in his car.

I had a strange feeling as if I was being watched. Getting in my car, I took a breath before a delicate knock on my window caught my ears.

Turning startled, it was the man from last night. His tongue licked over his lips as he eyed me through the car window, that divided us.

Rolling down my window he cleared his throat before talking.

"Eh bonjour. This fell out of your purse last night, but you slipped away before I could catch up and return it to you." His french accent filled my ears.

His voice was deep and husky, it was attractive. I could not deny that, and his eyes and face were ten times more attractive up close.

In his hand, he held my wallet.

"Oh my god, thank you." I reached out for it and he placed it in my hand. Looking through it, everything was there.

"No problem. My name is Luka. And I hope you do not hesitate to use my number Angélique." His eyes stare into mine.

The way he spoke of my middle name was different than how it was actually pronounced, but I like it. Although it wasn't the same, the way it rolled off his tongue in his thick accent was nice.

"How do you know my name?" I question, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"I was looking for whom this wallet belonged to." He chuckled lowly.

You are so stupid, Rose.

"Right. Well thank you, Luka, I really appreciate it." I smile.

He nods.

"Don't be a stranger. Until next time Angélique." He winks, stepping away from my car.

And with that, I pulled off. That was the most intimidating encounter I have ever experienced. From the most intimidating man, I have ever met.

Luka.

I wonder what his last name is, mainly due to the fact that I could search for him. I was intrigued by him, a white Frenchmen openly hitting on a woman of colour. In a non-stereotypical way, I figured men such as himself were racists. Maybe the fact that he is not, is what intrigues me. Or the fact that he did not seem to care about my race at all.

I did not understand what drew me to him, but he is definitely something I was going to keep an eye on.

Nothing serious. But keeping him in the corner of my eye wouldn't hurt. Or would it?

Only time is to tell.