To Claim the Mountain Man

Chapter 10

ISLA MAE

I woke up with a headache. The kind that felt like a thousand pinpricks behind your eyeballs, radiating into a dull ache everywhere else. The kind that made you want to close the curtains, bury your face in a pillow, and sleep for the rest of eternity.

Grumbling my discontent, I tried to do just that.

I flopped from my back to my stomach, wrapped my arms beneath my pillow, and nuzzled deeper. With a deep inhale, I prepared to slip back into the world of my dreams—a world where this damn headache didn't exist.

"Mmm," I mumbled, rubbing my nose against my soft cotton pillowcase. It smelt incredible. Like I was sleeping in the middle of a pine forest with fresh morning dew covering every surface around me. Fresh and earthy and—

I stiffened.

I recognized that smell. And it sure as heck didn't belong in my bedroom.

Like I'd been struck by a barb of lightning, I shot upright with eyes wide open. My head protested the sudden movement by battering against my temple like a war drum, and I immediately squinted to minimize the pain, but I'd seen what I needed to see.

This wasn't my bedroom.

Light streamed in from two sets of windows, curtains half-drawn as if someone forgot to close them the night before. Dark green covered the walls, and it complimented the brown and gold flannel quilt folded neatly at the foot of the bed. White sheets pooled at my waist, covering my bare legs and—

Panic gripped me by the throat.

Where were my clothes?!

Splitting headache forgotten, my wide eyes flashed down my body. I wore a baggy white t-shirt and nothing else. No shorts. No panties. Nothing.

All at once, memories from the night before flooded my mind. Tequila shots with Skylar and Eliana. Dancing and a few games of pool with various strangers. Another drink—maybe two. A young man with brown curls and an irresistible dimple...

For a moment, I thought I might be sick all over this foreign bed. Was I in that stranger's bedroom?

No.

Heath arrived.

My brother's best friend took me home. He carried me to the door—his door. Relief swept through my stomach at the knowledge that I spent the night in Heath's bedroom rather than a stranger's. But my relief was short-lived.

We flirted... I was certain we flirted. Didn't we? I faintly recalled kissing Heath's neck. Did he kiss me back? I wanted to ask him to have sex with me. I remembered the pulse of desire between my legs vividly, but my memory started to falter at this point.

I didn't remember what happened next. Somehow, I ended up in Heath's bed, wearing his t-shirt and nothing else. My belly felt inexplicably sore, like I'd engaged in some new, strenuous activity that my muscles weren't used to.

My thoughts jumped to one conclusion...

"Oh no," I whimpered, clamoring to the side of the bed. Tears sprung to my eyes. I needed to get out of here, preferably before Heath returned from...wherever he was.

My feet touched the cold hardwood, but I didn't stand up. The room spun, no doubt the aftereffects of a night of overindulging. Blinking away the dizziness, I remained perched on the mattress and began scouring the neat bedroom for my clothes.

I found no trace of my tank top, skirt,orpanties, but there was a hamper across the room that seemed filled by a variety of men's clothing. At this point, I'd take a dirty pair of boxers. I only needed to run next door, after all.