Page 7 of Tasty Cherry

I don’t want to get to know the person who holds my secret. I can’t meet his friends. I can’t be his girlfriend. I can’t tell our grandchildren, Oh, it all started in a bar then I had him take my virginity hours after we met.

I have to get out of here.

But this is my hotel room. My purse is on the dresser, the contents spilled because I was in a rush. Well, we were in a rush.

Clothes are scattered on the floor. My earring is on the floor somewhere from when it flew off.

Pale blue light filters through the gap in the curtains. Dawn is coming.

I slide toward the edge of the bed, slowly and carefully, to avoid disturbing him.

I hit a cold patch on the sheets and the violent shiver that erupts across my body makes my leg jump so hard I almost kick him.

I grit my teeth and make it out of the bed, holding my pillow in front of my body in case he wakes up. Somehow I can’t bear for him to see me naked, cold, and sticky. I slip into the bathroom and, afraid to run the water, do my best to clean up with a dry hand towel.

How do I get him out of here?

I will have to be the one to leave.

I sneak through the room and gather my underwear, bra, and clothes. I dress quietly, holding my shoes in my hand. Then I pick up the room key and, as carefully as possible, open the door and step into the hall.

When I get down to the lobby, I curl up in a chair in the back corner, hidden behind a potted tree.

I try to relax. He will give up eventually. Then my life can go on normally.

Today is my first day at the Castle Hotel. The big moment I worked for by getting a degree in hospitality and tourism, applying for this incredible internship. Getting selected out of thousands of candidates.

It’s my dream.

And I fixed the one detail that had me worried. I got it over with.

I’m so relieved.

And look who he was. So handsome and careful. So much more amazing than all the other attempts that ended in disaster. I’ve been trying to get this done all summer back in Houston.

I shake my head, just thinking about them.

Once, the guy actually threw up on me as we were leaving the bar.

Twice, my chosen man found someone else to hit on before we made it to the door.

And more times than I care to count, I chickened out. One time, I crawled through the window of an apartment bathroom, landing in a cluster of prickly bushes.

Another time, when I was following the guy home in my car, I made a frantic U-turn and zoomed away.

But last night was different.

Sebastian had saved me. Gotten me away from Carl. Shown me I could dance. That I could be somebody’s choice.

I stare out across the parking lot at his shiny SUV sitting next to my car.

Maybe I should give him a shot.

I live here. Maybe we could date.

But then I remember his expression when he realized there was blood. And sure, he’d been cuddly and sweet.

But he knows.