Page 6 of Among the Stars

Her mystery host set the coffee mug on the nightstand in front of him. “I slept on the couch. There’s a fresh toothbrush on the bathroom sink. Do whatever you need, and I’ll be waiting in the kitchen to take you home.”

After a brief nod toward a door in the corner, he left the room. Adrenaline dropping, Veronica plopped onto the bed, afraid her knees wouldn’t hold. A man had taken her home, put her in his bed fully clothed, and slept on his couch. Her brain couldn’t compute this information. Had she come onto him, and he’d turned her down? Was she so unequivocally unattractive that he couldn’t bear to sleep with her?

Not getting sexed up while too drunk to protest or participate was a good thing, but still. Her ego felt the sting.

Elbows on her knees and head in her hands, Veronica concentrated on the night before. She and Melanie had taken an Uber downtown. They’d started at Rippy’s on the corner by the arena, and worked their way down the block. Somewhere along the way, Melanie had picked up a guy and refused to move on.

After that, things grew fuzzy.

She remembered Melanie going off to dance. That’s when Veronica had opted to carry on without her. Not the brightest move, but then Veronica hadn’t exactly been in her right mind. She tried to recall how much she’d had to drink, but one cocktail after another flowed through her mind. Was it five? Ten? More?

At some point she’d been cold. Then there’d been lots of neon and sweaty bodies and stairs. Lots of stairs. She’d called for a drink. A bartender appeared. A pretty one. He’d flirted with her. Or had he?

Veronica ran a hand through her tangled curls and moaned. She must look awful. After stumbling into the bathroom, which was as white and pristine as the bedroom, she found the promised toothbrush still in the packaging, toothpaste, and a washcloth. Staring at her Medusa hair and smeared makeup in the mirror, Veronica understood the bullet she’d dodged. She didn’t have to remember everything to know that she’d likely passed out at some point. Anything could have happened to her.

But it didn’t. From what she could tell, she had her gorgeous host to thank for that.

* * *

If his guestfelt as bad as she looked, she was going to need more than the bottled water and extra strength pain pills he’d already set on the counter. Cam considered making her eggs but doubted her stomach would tolerate food.

Her assumption that he’d taken advantage of her was understandable, though he’d never forget the image of her standing in front of those windows wrapped in his sheet like a Valkyrie ready to do battle. He hadn’t touched her, of course, other than carrying her into the apartment and tucking her in. Call him crazy, but Cam preferred his women conscious and sober.

At least he now knew her name. One ID had been found at the end of cleanup last night, and they’d matched it with a credit card left at the main floor bar to start a tab. He’d had both sent over this morning. The picture confirmed her identity, though the woman on the license looked happier than the one who’d kept him out of his bed.

The name sounded familiar, so Cam had done a quick search to see if anything came up. His mystery woman had quite the resume. An award-winning producer involved in the making of more than a dozen number one country hits. Seemed like a person of her success and stature wouldn’t need to go out alone.

The pat of footsteps came from the hall, and his guest appeared looking fresher than she’d been ten minutes ago, though still a bit green.

“Have a seat,” he said, pointing to the water and pills on the island. “Those will help.”

She cleared her throat and set the mug he’d left for her on the granite surface. “I don’t want to intrude any longer than I already have. If you’ll let me know where my phone is, I’ll order a car.”

Cam reached behind him for the small purse and passed it her way. “Your phone is dead. I don’t have the right charger.”

Her shoulders fell. “Then if you could call me a cab.”

“I’ll take you home. It won’t take me long to get dressed.”

Bloodshot eyes met his. “Why didn’t you take me home last night?”

A fair question. “I didn’t know who you were last night.” Cam nodded toward the purse. “I searched your purse after you passed out, but there was no ID. The staff found it later, and I had it brought over. It’s in there now, along with the credit card you used to start a tab.”

A mumbled curse crossed her lips before she repeated his words. “Passed out?”

“You blacked out before I could get you outside. The cold air might have sobered you up, but we didn’t make it that far.”

Her eyes closed as slender fingers covered her mouth. Cam could almost see the memories rushing back.

“I got sick, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“You’re the bartender.”

“I am.”

Both hands covered her face. “I’m so embarrassed.”