The North Star | COMPLETED ✔️

Chapter 19~ Crunchy Eggs

Chapter 19

Pain. It was the only constant, and as my eyelids peeled upwards, assaulted by the too bright morning, it hit me like a hammer to my temple.

Drinking was one of those things. I loved it while it was happening, but I'd always wake up and realize what a huge mistake I'd made.

Strangely similar to everything else in my life.

This time was no exception...

Because I had absolutely no clue where the fuck I was.

Big bed. Brown sheets. A thick, heavy blanket of the same hickory shade. The room felt like a box, something straight out of a dollhouse. My pack was nowhere to be seen. Shit. What the fuck did I do?

I sifted through my memory, searching. The party. Dancing. Drinking. Drinking. Drinking. Fuck. I'm an idiot.

My eyes widened, then quickly narrowed back into slits when the action shot a fresh burst of pain through my skull.

I'm in a man's bed. This is definitely a man's bed.

Heart in my throat, I pulled myself to my knees and crawled across the mattress to the door. I said a silent prayer that it would open into a larger room. The size of this one didn't offer any reassurances. It was too small. Motorhome small. There was only one bedroom in the motorhome, and, unless I was very wrong about my mysterious stranger, only one man occupied it.

I pushed it open as if a killer stood on the other side, and the familiar hallway greeted me.

My breath hitched.

I'm in his bed. I gave in. Drunk Jessie did a bad, bad thing.

The combination of stomach acid and liquor burned as my body desperately fought to cleanse itself of the toxins.  I raced for the bathroom, barely making it in time. "Shit! You idiot," I cursed myself. Why did you drink so much? Why?

The worst part was, I didn't remember it. I'd given in to sweet temptation, and had no recollection of... the sweetness. God. What a fucking mess.

I rinsed my mouth and stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot. Dark circles hung beneath them like upside down haloes. I searched my neck. No hickeys. My eyes roamed. Not a bite, scratch, or lover's bruise.

He'd probably been attentive. Slow. He'd probably taken his time. Those freaky eyes had probably read my body like sheet music and played it like a symphony.

My core tightened. Heat flooded. As stupid as it was, I wanted so badly to remember it.

My stomach gurgled. I should eat. The thought repulsed me, but if I didn't, I would never feel better. The small shower contained two items. A bottle of coconut dollar store shampoo, and a bottle of off brand men's body wash. Of course, no razor, and it appeared a man like Bard didn't need conditioner to achieve such beautiful hair.

I shook my head and turned it on. Don't think about his beautiful hair. But I did. As the smell of coconut filled my nose, I thought about it. I'd probably ran my fingers through it. I ran my own through mine, eyes closed. I'd probably gripped it tight to keep him close.

I'm in serious shit.

I rinsed my hair, washed as best I could, trying to ignore the masculine scent for fear it would conjure a new daydream.

It did.

I showered as if on a timer, then threw on the clothes I'd been wearing.

My steps seemed too loud as I made my way into the kitchen and walked to peek inside the mini-fridge. Every motion sent a fresh dose of pain to my skull, and each does of pain brought on a wave of nausea.