The Fluke

3 - Jules

I feel it before I even open my eyes. Pounding. My head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. My mouth is dry. I dart my tongue out to lick my lips. Jesus, my breath smells like shit.

What the hell happened last night?

I slowly open my eyes. The room is bright. The morning sun is easing through the parted blinds at the balcony doors, but it feels like shards of glass in my eyeballs.

And then it occurs to me that I don't have a balcony. I blink a few times and adjust my eyes to the brightness of the room. I don't recognize my surroundings. I'm not at home. And I'm not at Val's. Where am I?

I'm about to roll over when I realize there is something weighing on my waist. I look down and see a man's hand draped across my body, his palm resting gently on my belly. I'm wearing a white t-shirt which does not belong to me, and my black panties.

What. The. Fuck.

My heart slams inside my chest. I'm in someone else's bed. Frantic, my eyes scan the floor to come upon a chair in the corner of the room. My jeans, shirt, and jacket are folded neatly on the seat. I can't see my bra anywhere.

The man's hand twitches and I stop breathing, but I think he's still asleep. I hear him mumble something that I can't make out. His hand slides across my waist and drops onto the bed behind my back. I silently thank whoever and continue holding my breath as I wait for him to settle. After a few seconds of silence and no movement, I release my breath quietly.

Whose bed am I in? Do I want to know?

I glance to my left and see an alarm clock that reads 7:08. He is probably going to wake up soon and I don't want to be lying next to him when he does.

Slowly, slowly, slowly I make my way off the bed and stand up. A head rush hits me as soon as I'm upright and I cover my eyes and forehead with my hand. It doesn't do anything to slow the hammering my brain is doing in my skull. Once the assault inside my head slows down to a manageable rhythm, I turn around slowly to check out my sleepover buddy.

I'm met with a sight that causes my breath to catch in my throat. The sleeping man is shirtless, the sheets laying over him revealing enough that I can tell he's fit as hell. His hair is brown, kind of caramel, but his facial hair is darker. It's a sexy combo. A piece of hair has fallen across his brow. I clench my hand to keep myself from reaching over to brush it back into place. As I study his face I notice the way his long eyelashes are resting on his cheeks, and then I'm overcome with flashes of feelings.

Hands on my body. Lips on my neck. Arms wrapping around me and pulling me close. A soft voice whispering against my hair. What is it saying? I can't remember.

Lucas.

Ohmygod.

The last thing I remember is practically ripping his clothes off in the elevator. We stumbled down the hall to his apartment, and then... There's nothing. I must have blacked out.

Jesus Christ. Did we have sex? I grab the neck of the t-shirt I'm wearing and bring it to my nose. It smells like a man. I must have put this on after we... finished.

How utterly mortifying. I finally have my first, and undoubtedly last, one night stand and I can't even remember it. I have to get the fuck out of here before he wakes up.

I tip-toe over to the chair and grab my jeans. Once they're on, I slip the white t-shirt over my head with my back turned to the bed, just in case. I mean, I guess he's already seen everything but if he happens to wake up right now I don't want the first thing he sees to be my tits on display. I still haven't found my bra.