[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
Chapter 4: Repercussions

Have you ever waken up in the morning and just known that you regret what you’d done the night before even though you couldn’t technically remember what that was? Well, that’s exactly how I felt the morning after my birthday when I opened my eyes and realized that I was not in my own bed, nor was I in John’s guest room. Hell, I wasn’t even on Danny’s couch. In fact, I wasn’t sure where the hell I was.

White pillows and white bed sheets suggested a motel but even though my vision was severely blurred from a pounding headache, I could tell I sure as hell wasn’t in the fucking motel 6 in Hanley Kentucky. Nope a room this nice had to be in Lexington.

I attempted to sit up knowing full well how much it was going to hurt. As the room stopped spinning around me I heard a deep groan and it took me a minute to realize that it was not me that groaned. OH SHIT!

This was not the first time I had waken up in the arms of a man I couldn’t remember sleeping with. In fact it was the third. The first was John, if you remember I told you about our all night beer fest when I was 17. That resulted in a month long soap opera that still caused a little trouble between the three of us every now and then.

The second time didn’t happen until years later. When I was about 23 I had gone to a Wildcats home game and woke up the next morning in some frat house. Big fucking mistake there! The bastard that took me home had a web cam in his room and posted the whole fucking thing on the Internet. I found his roommates watching it in the living room the next morning and beat the shit out of the asshole that fucked me. That earned me my first, and only, if you can believe that, assault charge. Back home fighting is just a way of life but I guess those college pusses didn’t see it that way.

John was the one who bailed me out that day. He felt really bad because normally he wouldn’t have let me go home with a total stranger like that but he’d had more than his share of alcohol that night too. He promised me that day that he would never let me get that drunk and go home with another man again… Hmm… What the fuck happened last night?

Well that brings me to the third instance. Third time’s a charm, right? HA! Maybe if I were the actual Cinderella and not the fucking trailer park version. At least this time I had a fairly good idea what had happened. I was just bummed that I couldn’t remember it. In a fucking Donald Trump hotel room like this, I had to have gone home with that gorgeous city boy. Damn, of all the things to forget. That son of a bitch was sexy as hell. I bet I had the best sex of my life last night and I can’t even remember leaving the bar.

My head was fucking killing me but I actually smiled to myself thinking that I was just going to have to screw him again so I rolled over to face the man lying next to me hoping he wasn’t wearing any clothes. You can imagine how I felt when I saw a mess of blonde hair sticking out from under the fluffy bed cover. HOLY FUCK! I FUCKED THE ASS GRABBER!??!?!?!?!

“Shit!” I hissed under my breath. I froze when he stirred. No way did I want to face him! I’ve gotten pretty plastered in my time but how the hell did this happen! I didn’t even want to know what repercussions this little escapade was going to have. I slid out of bed as quietly as I could and threw my clothes on. I didn’t know where I was or what time it was. I didn’t have a clue how I was going to get home but I didn’t care. I just had to get out of that hotel room as fast as I could. Maybe if I was lucky he was every bit as drunk as I was and wouldn’t remember a damn thing either. If I could just get out of there without him waking up then he would probably never know. I slipped out the door and closed it quietly behind me. I let out a deep breath of relief as the door snapped shut. Freedom! I thought until I heard a voice behind me. “Good Afternoon.”

“Holy shit!” I screamed whirling around to find myself in what looked like a living room. What kind of hotel room has a fucking living room? The man smiled at how startled I was. It was the other city boy. The short, dark haired one. He stood up from the couch and pulled a chair out from the table. “Please, sit.” He said and wandered into the kitchen.

More than anything I desperately wanted to get out of there but for some reason I just did as I was told and sat down at the table. I watched curiously as the stranger poured a tall glass of something I was sure I was better off not knowing what it was and handed me four Aspirin. “Take these and wash them down with this.” He said softly.

“What the fuck is it?”

The stranger plopped himself down in the chair next to me and flashed me an intoxicating smile. “That, my dear, is what we call a Backstreet cocktail.”

What kind of a fucking lame-ass name was that? “A what?”

“Just a mixture of things you probably don’t want me to describe guaranteed to fix even the worst hangovers. Trust me, it tastes like shit but you want to drink it.”

This guy was a lot like Brian, very charming. I mean, he wasn’t at all a good ol’ country boy. He had big city written all over him, but still, charming none the less. He didn’t seem at all awkward even though he just caught me sneaking out of his friend’s bedroom. That blond motherfucker must bring home strange women all the time. This guy didn’t seem to mind at all, but he seemed shy. I don’t really know how to explain him except that he was strange.

He was nice though and I was grateful for it. I was also grateful for whatever the hell that drink was he gave me because almost instantly I could feel it relieve some of the tension in my head. I sipped the concoction slowly, trying my best not to let him see how nasty I thought it tasted.

The man watched me carefully, almost as if he’d never seen a woman before. Not that I’m much of a woman, but still. I smiled awkwardly and he simply smiled back and offered to make me some breakfast. I choked on the nasty juice I was drinking and nearly spit it at him, I was so surprised by his offer. “Excuse me?” I had to ask again because I was so sure I hadn’t heard right.

“You must be hungry.” He said, “There’s not much here but we could order some room service.”

I laughed at his offer. I could tell I’d confused him. I guess he didn’t see what was so funny but come on, ordering room service? I’ve never stayed in a hotel that actually offered room service in my entire life much less ordered it. To me it was something that only happened in the movies. It’s not something you actually do. God, rich people!

I had to give him an answer though. He was obviously waiting for one and still trying to figure out what was so funny. It was kind of a hard decision to make actually. I’ve never dated a rich guy before, not that this was by any means a date, but I have to admit the thought of breakfast delivered to me with a fresh flower in a vase sounded kind of fun. I just knew that it would take time and I didn’t want to be there when blondie woke up. Finally I decided that room service was probably over rated anyway and I shook my head. “No thanks.” I said.

I couldn’t help but glance over at the door to the room I’d just snuck out of. Apparently the shy one was also the smart one because that’s all it took for him to understand exactly what I was thinking. He let a tiny laugh escape. “How about I take you out to breakfast then and we’ll let Nick sleep. He was every bit as drunk as you last night. If we leave now, I bet he’ll never know. It’ll be our little secret.”

HA! As if the whole town wasn’t in the bar last night. I’m sure I was probably the last person to find out. Nick, the blonde one was Nick. I gotta remember that. “And I’m Howie, by the way.”

Howie. Probably short for Howard. That’s such a rich guys name. Ever wonder why the rich guys always have ‘rich guy’ names? Anyway, rich guy name or not, again, it’s like he was reading my thoughts. I smiled a weak thank you. I tried not to let him see it, but I was embarrassed. I’m not sure why it bothered me so much what this guy thought of me. I mean the guy was a total stranger and I’d probably never see him again. He’s a fucking rich city boy for Christ sakes. Guys like him and girls like me couldn’t exist in the same world together even if we wanted to, yet I still wanted to explain myself. “Look, that’s sweet and all, but I should probably just go. I mean last night I, I… Well I don’t normally…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself. It’s cool.” Howie laughed, “Besides, I probably remember what happened a lot better than you anyway. So how bout it? You hungry?”

Oh God I just wanted to shoot myself. This fucking guy, probably some super intelligent, important, Bill Gates guy, felt responsible for me. It was like he was trying to clean up his buddy’s mess. Probably worried I was after his money or some shit. I’m such an ass sometimes but what the fuck can you expect, you know my parents.

“Look.” I said trying not to lose my temper. (I can be a bit of a raging bitch when I have a hangover.) “You don’t have to entertain the white trash ho your buddy brought home after a wild night of slumming it. I’m a big girl. I know my way home. Thanks for the uh, the whatever the fuck you called that drink though, I do feel a little better.”

I will probably always remember the look on Howie’s face as I got up to let myself out. It was the same look Danny gave me the night I showed up at his bedroom window after the run-in with my father. I didn’t understand why Howie was giving me that look now. I wasn’t sure what I had done to get such a reaction, but he looked like he was going to be sick. He starred wide-eyed at me with his mouth hanging slightly open as I thanked him one more time and walked out the door. I got half way down the hall before he came running after me. “Cindy wait!” he said.

I was surprised that he knew my name although I guess I shouldn’t have been. He only sang happy fucking birthday to me the night before. I didn’t remember being formally introduced but I’m sure I must have been.

Him knowing my name wasn’t what made me stop though. It was the urgency in his voice. Well that, and he was literally sprinting down the hall after me. When he caught up with me he stood in front of me forcing me to stop and make eye contact with him. “God, I don’t want you to think that-” he said but he was too flustered to get the words out, “That’s not what I was trying to do. Honestly! I was just wanted to be nice.”

“It’s alright. I don’t have to actually remember to know what happened last night. I’m not stupid. I know you guys must be some kind of big shots or something, but don’t worry, I’m not going to try and cause you’re friend any trouble. I’m not used to formality so there’s no need to be nice.”

The elevator chimed open and I started to step in but Howie grabbed my hand. Not forcefully, or he would have gotten his ass kicked, but still firm. He didn’t want me to go. I don’t think I’ve ever been more shocked in my life than I was right then. He pulled me back so that I wouldn’t leave, but once he had my attention he didn’t let go of my hand.

His thumb kind of rubbed the back of my hand. It reminded me of those cheesy romance novels when the sexually frustrated author uses the word caress. Yeah, that’s the right word. He was fucking caressing my hand. Shit, whatever the hell it was, it was fucking amazing. His skin was so soft it sent shivers down my spine. I’ve never been touched like that before. Now I knew I was in a movie!

As if the surreal moment weren’t straight out of a romance novel already, he actually said, “It wasn’t formality. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I just wanted to take you out?”

“Like a fucking date? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yeah, it fucking is.”

Ok, maybe I was a little harsh, but come on. What are the chances he was really interested in me? At best he thought I was easy, since I went home with his friend the night before and thought he might be able to get a piece too. No fucking way was he good-looking, rich and nice. That just didn’t exist. And even if it did, I sure as hell would never be so lucky. I ain’t fucking Cinderella you know.

The expression on Howie’s face dropped like he was sad or something and he actually whispered his reply. “Well it shouldn’t be. I think you’re amazing.”

Awkward moment! What the hell happened last night to make him think that? I never learned how to take a compliment. Never really got them either. I was sure he meant what he said, I just couldn’t believe it and there was no way I was going to go there. I pulled my hand away from his and pressed the button for the elevator again.

I was feeling all the same emotions I had felt the night before and for the second time in my life I kissed a man on the cheek. I forced a smile and then pressed my lips gently to his cheek. “You’re sweet.” I whispered and then stepped into the elevator. “You should really find yourself a sweet girl. I’m sure you deserve that.”

Then the doors to the elevator closed and I was sure I would never see him again. I wasn’t sure whether I was going to regret my decision or not, but I was convinced it was for the best. I’ve been trained to expect a certain standard of living my entire life and this guy just didn’t belong there. I didn’t know him, but I knew he was way too good for the likes of me.