Princess & the Player

one: first night

Maggie's POV

I woke up naked in a strange bathtub with splitting headache. "What the hell happened to me?" 

"Some party, huh?"

There was a strange naked guy in the doorway. I grabbed the shower curtain and hid behind it. 

"Too late for that, darlin'."

"Who are you?!" I peeked out. Still naked. Yummy, tan skin and...wow...

"My place, you first."

"Maggie. I'm Maggie."

"Marco. I gotta pee."

"Could you hand me a towel at least?"

"Jeez, uh hang on..." 

A ratty beach towel came flying. It barely covered me. I stepped out of the tub and tried to avoid touching the guy as I passed. 

I could already hear him peeing. Gross. "Where are my clothes?"

"You don't want 'em."

"I really do."

"Doubt it," I heard the flush and he walked out tugging on boxers. He pointed to a pile in the corner of the tiny kitchen area. 

"I need to..." The stench hit me as I reached for my t-shirt. They were still wet with vomit. What happened last night? "Ew."

"Told ya," he sniffed some jeans off the floor and pulled them on. 

"Where's your..." I looked around. It was a studio dorm, not much to see. "Washer and dryer?"

"Oh, princess," he drawled, scratching his hard abs. "4 flights down in the basement. Got quarters?"

"Can I..."

"Hell, no," he cut me off. "Don't lend clothes to chicks. Never get 'em back."

"Then am I supposed to walk home in a towel?" 

"Sure," he looked me up and down. "You do that."

"Seriously?! You're a real gentleman, Marco. This how you treat all the girls who spend the night?"

"I treat 'em nice enough when they're invited. But you..." he stepped very close to me and my pulse jumped.

"Me what?" I pushed his chest away with one hand while I held the towel with my other. 

"You showed up, pounding on my door and screaming at 3 in the morning. When I opened the door, you threw up on me and collapsed. The only thing on you was a dead phone," he indicated my iPhone sitting on a desk. "You kept calling me 'JJ'. I got you cleaned up and left you to sleep it off."

"In your tub."

"In MY tub, yeah." He stared into my eyes with his head cocked, like he was trying to read my mind. "Who's JJ?"

 "He's -."

"You know what, don't answer that. I don't care. Keep your drama out of my place. I got enough."

"It's not what you think, OK?"

"Really? You got plastered, went to a strange guy's place, and passed out. What'd I miss?"

"I don't even remember."

"You're lucky it was me."

"Oh I can tell, you're a regular saint," I scoffed.

"Actually," he laughed. "I am. My last name is Santos. It means-"

"Saint. In Spanish," I nodded. "A real one would lend me clothes."