Page 5 of Among the Stars
Chapter Two
She was dead.There was no way a living person could feel this awful.
Veronica’s mouth was dry, and her tongue felt as if it were covered with fur. Her head throbbed, and the light trying to penetrate her eyelids made the pounding worse. A quick shift away from the brightness caused her stomach to roil, and she held her breath, trying not to wretch.
Slowly breathing through her nose, she tried to remember the night before. First came Ash’s call and the words she’d known would come, just not so soon. Then her own call to Melanie and their jaunt up and down Broadway. Had Veronica stepped in front of a bus? Or worse, been run over by one of those obnoxious pedal beer carts.
Death by drunken bachelorettes—story at eleven.
The lack of beeping machines told her she wasn’t in the hospital. That was good. Opening one eye revealed that she wasn’t in her own bed either. That was bad.
Very. Very. Bad.
The clink of a glass from somewhere down the hall meant Veronica was also not alone. She leaned up on her elbows to assess her surroundings. The room was huge with stark white walls except for the one to her right, which was floor to ceiling windows. A sleek black dresser rested against the wall at least ten feet from the foot of the bed, and the only other furniture besides the bed was a pair of matching black nightstands.
There were minimal decorations and few personal effects. In fact, the place looked more like a museum than a bedroom. Footsteps sounded in the hall, growing closer by the second, and Veronica squealed as she hopped out of bed, keeping the sheet—which was incredibly soft—tucked up to her chin. Her stomach and head both protested the quick relocation, but she couldn’t stay in the bed.
What if its owner expected another round? Oh God, had there been a first round? Of course there had. She woke up hungover in a stranger’s bed. That meant only one thing.
Panicked, Veronica searched for her clothes, expecting to find them strewn across the floor, but they weren’t anywhere to be found.
“You’re up.” came a deep voice from the doorway.
Her head snapped up, and pain shot through her temples. “Stay right there,” she said, gripping the sheet with one hand and holding the other out in front of her. “Don’t come any closer.”
Unperturbed, the stranger held up a mug. “I brought you coffee.”
She wanted a hit of caffeine almost as badly as she wanted to undo the last twenty-four hours, but Veronica had to get out of here first.
“Where are my clothes?”
Dark brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb,” she countered, unable to keep the hysterics from her voice. This just wasn’t like her. Veronica didn’t have sex with strangers. Hell, she didn’t even really drink. What the heck had gotten into her?
Ash was getting married. That’s what had gotten into her.
“You need to lower that sheet,” the man ordered, his voice gentle but firm.
Veronica shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Her host leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. He was broad and built and the white tee that clung to his body revealed the defined abs beneath. The low-slung pajama pants hugged his hips. Even his bare toes were sexy.
Good God, she’d slept with an Adonis.
Lust lit through her system, tightening her body with need. So the sex had probably been amazing. So what? She’d clearly not been in any condition to give consent, and that meant however many orgasms he’d given her were given without permission.
“I’m guessing you feel pretty awful right now,” he said. “The only way you’re going to get relief is by first taking a look behind that sheet.”
Look behind it? What the hell did that mean? Did he think she’d never seen herself naked before? Fearing he’d covered her in hickeys, or worse, she pulled the cotton far enough away to see down her front.
The sheet fell to the floor immediately.
“I’m dressed,” she said, shocked.
“Yes, you are,” he affirmed.
“But. . .” Veronica pointed to the bed.