Jourdan Mathews has a secret, and she knows she needs to take this one to the grave.
* * *
Her life was never complicated: a college student with a close family, good friends, and a plan for her future as a doctor. Had that night had never happened...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The next morning, the first thing I register is the dull pounding in my head, a sign that I had indeed consumed too much tequila the night before. The second thing are the soft sheets surrounding me and the smell of fresh laundry detergent mixed with expensive cologne. I open my eyes slowly, blinking at the dim room around me.
From the direction I am laying in I can see tall windows, a dresser, and the edge of another door, leading to the en suite. My memory of last night after a round of beer pong and two of rage cage is fuzzy at best but it occurs to me then I do not remember how I ended up here.
Shuffling around in the covers I also quickly realize that not only am I wearing a large t-shirt but my jeans, body suit and bra are scattered on the floor across from the bed I am currently laying in.
Panic shoots through me when I start to recognize the posters and jersey hung on the walls I can see, and I sit up in bed quickly.
"Morning sleepyhead."
I gasp, glancing over to Ryder, who is sitting in his desk chair, dressed in grey sweats and a matching crewneck. He's scrolling over something on his computer, wearing a pair of glasses that I'd never seen him in before.
"Wait," I start, putting the pieces together and starting to feel extremely sick. "Wait, we didn't . . . you know, did we?"
"What do you mean?" He raises an eyebrow at me, looking over from whatever he's working on again. There's a smirk playing on his lips that I want to slap right off his face.
"You know what I mean," I hiss, pulling the covers up around my body. "Why the hell am I in your bed?!"
"That's awfully ungrateful of you." He comments, pursing his lips and looking away from me.
"Ryder quit playing around," I snap. "Please tell me we didn't have sex."
He laughs loudly. "No, we didn't have sex Jourdan."
I breathe a sigh of relief, the nausea that had been building just moments before fading slowly and I relax.
"If you must know, Andee threw up on one of the futons so there was only one left and Bex claimed it," He explains. "So Andee went with Tristan and Justin told me to look after you."
"Justin trusted you with me?" I question skeptically and Ryder rolls his eyes.
"Yes, it might surprise you to know that not everyone in our friend group thinks I'm a complete asshole." He says, very matter of fact.
"Where did you sleep then?" I ask and he scoffs gently, gesturing to the floor and I glance over the other side of the bed to see a pillow and several blankets stretched out.
"Oh," I nod slowly. "Well, thank you for letting me sleep here."
"No problem." He grins at me. I reach over to the nightstand closest to me, grabbing my phone, which had been plugged in and check the time. It's nearly noon by now.
