I wake up feeling unusually comfortable, with more space than I've ever had when sharing Scarlett's bed. I blink a few times, trying to adjust to the light filtering through the room. Wait, Scarlett's room doesn't have a beautiful view of Seattle... or red silk sheets. Panic surges through me as I snap up, realizing I'm in a spacious, well-organized room that I don't recognize at all.
The bed is huge, draped in luxurious red silk covers. My dress and heels from last night are scattered on the floor, and when I look down, I'm wearing nothing but a man's button-up shirt. My heart races. Where the hell am I?
I scramble out of the covers, thoughts racing. Did I... did I have sex? No, no, I'd definitely feel different if that were the case. Right? Okay, Elizabeth, calm down. Everything's fine.
Before I can piece together anything coherent, the door opens, and in walks Chris Bryant, looking annoyingly relaxed in sweatpants and a plain blue t-shirt.
"Oh my god!" I yelp, trying to cover my front with the shirt, only to realize that now my backside is exposed. Brilliant. I grab some of the sheets and wrap them around me like a makeshift toga.
Chris raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Relax, I've seen you almost naked before."
My face drains of all color. "What?!" I shriek, eyes wide with horror.
Chris's eyes widen, realizing what he just said. "You really don't remember?"
"I think I would remember being half-naked in my boss's apartment!" I snap back, though my voice wavers.
He grins, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "It's fine, nothing happened if that's what you're worried about," he says, and I feel a bit of relief wash over me—until I notice the slight hesitation in his voice.
"Really?" I ask, needing that extra reassurance.
"Yes," he confirms, though there's still that teasing twinkle in his eyes.
"Then why did you say you've seen me half-naked?" I demand, narrowing my eyes.
"I was just messing with you," he says, breaking into laughter.
I can't help but laugh too, though I give him a playful glare. "That's not funny, Chris."
His laughter dies down, and he gives me a look that's almost... sad? It catches me off guard.
"I was just dropping off some clothes for you," he explains, setting down a bag. "You can take a shower if you want. There'll be food waiting in the kitchen when you're done."
I nod, watching him leave, still feeling a bit disoriented but grateful nothing too embarrassing happened. Or at least, nothing more embarrassing than usual.
I quickly get dressed in the pink sweater and jeans he left for me, putting my dress and heels in the bag. As I touch my lips, a strange sensation hits me—a flash of a memory, like I kissed someone last night. But who? I shake it off, chalking it up to my hazy, tequila-fueled mind, and step out into the hallway, barefoot.
YOU ARE READING
The Billionaires
RomansaMeet Scarlett Striker, a bold and quirky journalist for the Seattle Times. She's fun, confident, sassy, and just the right amount of weird. Scarlett is determined to rise to the top, no matter what it takes. When her boss offers a golden opportunity...