Sam groaned as she began to awaken. By the way her head was pounding, she figured there had to be a mariachi band playing over her head. She could picture the band stomping around dancing on her brain. She fought to open her eyes, wondering to herself if she would be able to lift her head that felt as if it weighed a ton. She recognized a scent, it was musky and woodsy yet fresh and clean. It smelt delicious. She didn’t remember her sheets ever smelling this good. She sniffed her pillow one more time, indulging in the scent, before rolling over and stretching her body along the mattress. She went to stretch her arms over her head when she noticed the long sleeve shirt she was wearing. Startled, she sat up and looked down at her chest, she had on a man’s button down shirt, and well, that was it. She pulled back the covers and lifted the shirt that was creeping up her thigh. Relief washed over her. At least she was wearing underwear.
“Shit! Shit! Shit! What did you do Sam?” She said as she buried her face in her hands. Okay, all she needed to do was think. Whose shirt was she wearing anyway? No, please God, no. She combed her fingers through her hair, or at least attempted to. Failing miserably, she figured her hair must resemble a nest of some sort. She jumped out of bed and took in her surroundings. Her clothes were nowhere in sight. Great. More good news. She was never going to drink again. She couldn’t remember a damn thing, other than… that son of a bitch!
The last thing Sam remembered, Nick Foti had been telling her and her friends he wouldn’t mind her dropping her panties for him. She suddenly felt sick as she glanced over to the chair in the corner. There were Nick’s jeans and shirt from the night before draped over the arm of the chair. Funny, how she was able to find his clothes, but not hers. She swung open the door and stomped barefoot out of his bedroom. She was going to murder him.
His apartment wasn’t that big, two steps out of the bedroom and she was in the open concept living room that led straight to the kitchen. If she wasn’t so damn mad she would’ve taken a moment to appreciate the fact that all he wore was basketball shorts. He turned around and she forgot what she was mad about. She hated that part of herself.
“Coffee?” He asked as he brought his own mug to his lips and took a sip.
“Are you kidding me? Coffee? That’s all you have to say for yourself?” She said, putting her hands on her hips to further emphasize her mood.
“I didn’t think you were a morning person. Good to know I’m two for two.” He said as he reached into his cabinet and pulled out another mug. He began to pour her a cup.
“What the hell does that even mean?” She asked as her brows furrowed in confusion. She couldn’t help but stare at his sculpted chest. He was a piece of male perfection, truly he was. Her breathing hitched when she noticed the brown hair that trailed from beneath his belly button down to… holy crap! He couldn’t possibly be wearing any underwear. She swallowed hard.
“First, you were in fact wearing black lace underwear. Second, your morning attitude is just as bad as your rest of the day attitude.” He slid the coffee mug across the counter.
She snapped out of her trance and glared at him. “You try waking up in a strange bed with someone else’s clothes on and tell me how your attitude is.”
He looked as if he was actually contemplating the scenario she had just offered up to him. He shrugged his shoulders. “I’d go about it differently than you.” He took another sip of his coffee.
“Oh, let me hear this one.” She said as she rolled her eyes and took the first heavenly sip of caffeine.
“Well, I suppose my first question would’ve been along the lines of ‘was it as good as I hoped it would be’?”
She spit out her first sip before she could even swallow it. Nick hid his mouth behind his mug and Sam was certain he was hiding a smirk. Her eyes widened.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying? You and I had sex?” She stared at him in horror. How could this have happened? She wanted to kick herself because not only did she ask herself how it happened, she followed it with, how could she finally have had sex with Nick and not remember one single detail. She stared back down at the bulge that was so evident through his loose fitting basketball shorts. For crying out loud how could she forget that?
Nick cleared his throat, and raised an eyebrow at her.
“Are you going to put some clothes on?” She squeaked.
“That depends.” He said as he gripped the edge of the counter, his arms flexed. “Are you?”