Chapter 4 Regret, Remorse, and a Really Bad Hangover q

The first thing I felt was pain...

A dull, relentless pounding behind my eyes, like my skull had been cracked open and someone was jackhammering directly into my brain.

My mouth was dry, my throat sore - and my body... My body felt wrecked. Aching in places that hadn't ached in a very, very long time. I shifted, and that's when I noticed it - the warmth of bare skin against my equally bare back. The weight of the sheets low on my hips, cool air brushing across my- Oh God.

My eyes snapped open.

I was naked in an unfamiliar bed, unfamiliar room - spacious, expensive. Dim morning light filtered through curtains I didn't recognize. And beside me, on his stomach, lay a man I definitely didn't recognize.

For a second, my brain refused to compute. But then the flashes came - vivid and unstoppable.

His mouth against my throat. My name, half a groan, half a demand. The drag of his hands over my hips, his teeth against my skin. The way he'd laughed when I told him I didn't do this kind of thing - like he knew I'd still end up beneath him.

And I had.

Oh, I had.

Oh my gosh!!!

I was out of the bed before I could think twice, ignoring the stab of pain in my head and the way my legs protested the movement.

The midnight blue dress Zara had forced me into was crumpled on the floor, and I snatched it up, slipping it over my head with quick movements.

"Leaving so soon, Doctor?" His voice - low, rough with sleep, and entirely too amused - stopped me cold. I turned slowly. He was awake now, propped on one elbow, watching me with a lazy kind of satisfaction that made my blood boil. Dark hair tousled, golden skin glimmering deliciously under the morning sun's light, and the kind of face that should come with a warning.

A mistake.

A devastating, six-foot-something muscular mistake.

"Don't call me that," I said coolly, slipping my heels on.

"Why not? You didn't seem to mind last night." His smirk deepened. "Actually, if I remember correctly, you liked it quite a lot."

I winced internally at the rush of image - his voice against my ear, that same teasing lilt as he pushed me further than I thought I could go.

My skin burned at the thought.

"Well," I said, smoothing my dress. "That's the good thing about one-night stands. No need for formalities after the deed."

He didn't look the least bit deterred. In fact, he looked entirely too pleased. "So that's all this was? One night?"

"Yes," I said simply, my voice cool and steady. No hesitation. No room for argument.

The amusement in his expression didn't fade, but something sharper flickered beneath it.

He stretched lazily and sat upright.

In the bright clear morning light, I was just realizing how well built he was. His chest, back and arms were covered in artistic spidery tattoos which not only made him intriguing but made him seem all the more dangerous.

"Last night was... nice," I continued, slipping my bag over my shoulder. My tone was polite, detached - the way you thank someone for holding the elevator.

"I appreciate the company. And the drink." His brows rose just slightly, and I could feel his gaze trailing over me - the perfect picture of composure, already back in my dress, hair falling over one shoulder like nothing had happened. Like my body didn't still hum with the memory of his hands, his mouth. Him.

I ignored it.

"But this," I said, gesturing vaguely between us, "was a lapse in judgment. And now it's over. So let's not make this more complicated than it needs to be."

He didn't respond. And I thought - maybe, just maybe - I'd said enough to end this cleanly. But of course, he had to ruin it. "Shame," he murmured, his voice like smoke and sin. "You didn't seem so eager for it to end last night." Heat flared at the base of my spine - at the memory of everything that had happened.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is why you shouldn't drink

"I was drunk," I said coolly. "And reckless." One side of his mouth curled. "I liked you reckless." "Then it's a good thing you won't have to see it again." I turned for the door, my heels clicking against the marble.

I was almost there when his voice stopped me one last time. "Until next time, Doctor." I didn't bother looking back. Didn't let him see the way my fingers tightened on the strap of my bag.

There wouldn't be a next time.

Hopefully I looked surer than I was on the inside because there was a little piece of me that did hope for a next time.

Reckless and dumb of me to get drunk and do the very same thing my husband does, I know.

But I couldn't lie to myself... Last night was the most alive I have felt in six years.

But that didn't mean I was going to do such again.

I pulled out my phone and found a barrage of messages. Ignoring them, I opened Zara's chat.

Just wait until she hears what happened...

***********************

Zara stared at me like I'd just confessed to a felony. "You did what?!!" she whisper-screeched, eyes wide with scandalized glee.

"Lower your freaking voice" I snapped, snatching a pair of heels from her hands and tossing them into the "donate" pile.

I gestured to the couch at the other end of my room where Alina lay snuggled comfortably with our huge dog, her iPad in front of her

"No. No, you don't just drop a bomb like that and expect me to 'lower my voice.' You-" she pointed an accusing finger at me "- had a one-night stand?!"

"I'm a hair's width away from strangling you with this pillow. Shut. Up!"

She laughed.

"I can't believe this! You-Mrs. I Don't Drink That Much, Mrs. I Don't Do Reckless, Mrs. My Life Is Too Perfectly Curated For This-went home with a stranger?!"

"This is your fault!" I accused, pulling a dress from my closet and shoving it into her arms.

"Here, make yourself useful." "My fault?" she said gleefully, holding the dress up to her body and twirling in front of the huge mirror.

"You're the one who-oh, this is cute. Why don't you wear this anymore?" I snatched the dress back and tossed it aside.

"You're the one who forced me into that ridiculous outfit and dragged me to that party-" "You looked hot," she interrupted, handing me a bag without even pretending to feel guilty.

"-and kept handing me drinks when you know I'm not into that." "Because you never let loose!" Zara countered, tossing a pair of stilettos onto the bed.

"I was being a supportive sister." "You were being a bad influence." "A successful influence," she corrected smugly.

"And clearly, I did God's work because look at you! You got reckless! You got wild! You-" "Just...stop. Stop talking," I pinched the bridge of my nose before folding a jacket with more force than necessary.

But Zara was in her element now. Holding another of my dress and a bag on herself as she posed in front of the mirror.

"Please tell me he was hot. No-of course he was hot. You wouldn't have broken a six-year dry spell for just anyone-" "Zara!" I hissed.

"What's a one-night stand?" Alina questioned. She blinked at us, suspiciously like she already knew I was going to lie.

I was going to kill Zara.

"It's... a very short dance," I said, perfectly calm. "Go back to your show, baby."

Alina squinted at me. "I don't think that's right." "It's right," I said firmly, shooting Zara a look that promised violence if she dared to open her yap hole and spew some other shit.

Being the menace she was, she just beamed at me.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered dramatically, clutching a handbag to her chest like she was getting emotional.

I threw a scarf at her head.

"You can be such a bitch sometimes" I rolled my eyes and turned back to my closet.

I hadn't yet fully recovered from my hangover. The headache was still there. Manageable this time.

Zara sat cross-legged on the floor, rummaging through my shoe collection like it was her personal treasure trove.

"Wait, wait, wait. Please tell me you didn't leave anything behind." I froze. Her eyes went wide. "Zina." "I didn't," I said quickly.

"You totally did." "I didn't!"

"Then why are you panicking?" Zara asked, her grin turning wicked. I wasn't panicking. Not outwardly, anyway. But my brain was already running through last night like a crime scene-dress, shoes, bag-earrings.

Oh God.

Zara gasped like she'd won the lottery. "If that man texts you like, 'Hey, you forgot your underwear,' I swear to God-"

"I did not leave my underwear!"

"But something, right? Earring? Dignity? Sanity? Morals maybe?"

I didn't even look at her before throwing a big pillow straight to the side of her head.

"Ouch!" She winced. "How I wish that was a canon ball"

"You're both very weird." Alina sighed and turned her back to us.

"Your mommy just had a big night, Alina" Zara giggled.