A Betting Man

Chapter Fifteen

Adelaide's Point of View

It seems my head awakens before the rest of my body. Even in my dream, I can feel it pounding against my skull, painful and unrelenting. Dream Addie pulls a Tylenol out of thin air and pops it into her mouth. Unfortunately, things are never that easy for conscious Addie.

I groan and roll over, not daring to open my eyes. I can see the sunlight glowing behind my eyelids, the hot rays all around me. I make a mental note to pin a blanket up over my window tonight. That perky fucking sun has simply got to go.

I toss an arm over my eyes and lay that way a few more minutes. Then I hear a door open and close from somewhere beyond the bedroom and my whole body tenses. Quickly, I rip my arm away, squinting against the light, and I'm mortified and astonished to discover I'm not in my bedroom. I bolt upright, regretting that move the instant it happens, and rip the covers away from my body with lightening speed. I gasp. I have on no pants. No pants. A big, wrinkled T-shirt with no pants!

But I check and oh, thank heavens, I'm still wearing panties. My heart rate slows a bit as the previous night's events come creeping back to me. Yet as my heart rate slows, my face glows redder and redder, the blush creeping all the way down my chest. I'm beyond mortified.

Did I seriously drunk dial Justin? And then proceed to throw up while I was on the phone with him? That only happens in nightmares and cheap, floozy comedies, right? Right?

Wrong.

I groan and collapse back onto the bed, another move I regret, and slowly mull over the previous night. I'd thrown up in Justin's ear, and he'd come to pick me up. Then, I angrily interrogated him until he promised not see Lauren again, though I'm actually pretty pleased about that part. But then I got the brilliant idea to throw myself at him. I didn't plan to follow through – in fact, I'm certain I wouldn't have. I was still so angry, but I was drunk and upset and wanted to test him a bit. He knew I was drunk – I threw up in his ear for crying out loud! - so that was a true test of his character. Had he been willing to sleep with me, then I would've known he was a complete schmuck who was ready and willing to use me no matter what... so long as it benefited him. He's lucky he pulled back or else a swift kick to his balls would've surely helped him see the light of reason.

But now, in the light of day, I regret my actions. It was a quick and easy way to find out if he really was as deplorable as he was coming across, and for that I'm not sorry. I feel better knowing he has a good conscience buried somewhere deep. But do I look for the good in everybody this way, or am I just eager to find it in him? And why? I don't care if he's a good person. After Devon's wedding I won't see him again. He can fuck and shag until the cows come home, as my mother would say – it won't make a bit of difference to me then.

But I'm embarrassed. My rationale is shaking her head at me, sorely disappointed. I'd thrown myself at Justin, and for all he knew, I was willing to give myself to him right there on the bathroom counter. I'd come across as a sloppy drunk, one without a trace of self-respect for miles and miles. I'd placed myself with all those other girls... all to test this man who'd made a bet on me. What was I thinking?

I hear another door open and close and then footsteps, yet Justin doesn't come into the room. I lay in bed a few minutes to get my bearings and will my headache away. I feel nauseous again, but it eventually passes. When I roll over to finally clamber out of bed, I'm surprised to find a glass of water and two white pills sitting on the bedside table. I pop them into my mouth without a second thought and stumble out of bed, pulling on my too-tight jeans. It suddenly occurs to me that I'm wearing his shirt again, and I stick my nose into the sleeve, inhaling deeply. Damn, he smells good. I'll take his smell as a hangover remedy any day.