Chapter 6 Walk of shame

The night blurred together after that, a haze of tangled limbs, whispered promises to my body, and thirst that grew the more he drank. There was no room to feel self-conscious, no space for hesitation-just us, tangled in his sheets and sin, chasing pleasure like it was the only thing keeping us alive.

He was everywhere-his eyes on me, his lips on my skin, his hands gripping my hips, guiding my movements. Every touch was arousing, every kiss a promise, touching me in ways I hadn't been touched in years.

We moved like we'd done this a hundred times, even though we were strangers. And when we finally collapsed into a tangle of limbs on his bed, breathless and wrecked, I knew-I just knew-I'd remember this night for the rest of my life.

I woke up to the soft glow of dawn filtering through the windows, painting golden streaks across his bedroom walls.

Mystery god, because he sure as hell wasn't a "guy," was still asleep beside me, the sheet half-draped across his hips, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Imagine if he opened his eyes and caught me oggling at him, but my goodness, he looked so edible with one arm laid across me, heavy and warm, as if he hadn't wanted to let me go even in sleep.

I let myself linger. Just for a moment. I let myself enjoy the heat of his body against mine, the scent of his cologne, and the comfort of being held like I mattered. But then reality came crashing in. What was I thinking?.

I blinked up at the ceiling, my breath catching in my throat as flashbacks from the night before came back in vivid detail.

His hands had roamed like they had a map of me. His mouth had explored my body like it was made of treasure. The way he'd looked at me-intensely, hungrily-like I was all that mattered at that moment in time.

Raw, It had been passionate. It was more than I expected. And yet, it was nothing more than a one-night stand. To him. To me. To the universe. No strings. No promises. Just booze and sex in the middle of a chaotic chapter in my life.

I slipped out of bed as quietly as I could, careful not to stir him. My dress was all the way at the other side of the room and wrinkled. My hair was a tangled mess, my lipstick long gone, and my shoes nowhere to be found.

But I didn't care. I wasn't looking to impress anymore.

I scribbled a quick note on a scrap of paper I found on the nightstand: 'Thanks for last night, but you couldn't uncover my secrets, mystery man. X.O.X.O. – Sexy Red.'

I left it there beside the half-full glass of whisky and quietly slipped out of the room, out of his apartment, and back into the early morning silence of the city. The streets were just starting to wake up. Coffee shops were unlocking their doors, people were heading to their buses, and the world felt quiet in that in-between hour when night had barely let go and day hadn't fully taken over.

I walked quickly, keeping my head down, my heels clicking against the pavement with every step. My mind was a mess-too much to feel, too much to process. So I shut it all down. I needed to get home, shower, and pretend last night never happened.

File it away under reckless decisions I didn't regret but wouldn't repeat. But when I finally opened the door to my apartment building, I froze.

Kate was there, standing in the hallway. And beside her, the guy from last night's club-the one with the lazy smirk and dangerous eyes. His shirt was half-tucked, his hair a charming mess. He looked like sin. Kate, on the other hand, looked like she'd stepped off a runway. Perfect, satisfied, and smug as hell.

"Vanessa," she said, surprised but amused. "You're home early." I raised a brow, leaning against the doorway. "Looks like I'm not the only one who had a good night." Kate laughed and turned to the guy. "Go on, hottie. Thanks for last night." She waited for the elevator doors to close, then spun to face me, arms crossed, her grin stretching. "So... how was Mr. Hot and Smirking?"

"Can I get into my house before your questions?" The elevator door opened at our floor; it was out of order a couple of days ago but was working as good as new now. Thank goodness, because I wasn't in the mood to use the stairs.

"So back to Mr. Smoking hot and whisky," Kate said, fully amused.

I rolled my eyes and breezed past her into the living room. "None of your business."

"Oh, please," she said, following close behind. "You've got that post-orgasm glow, and you're walking like your knees barely made it home. Spill."

I went straight to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "It was just a one-night thing. That's it."

Kate snorted. "Sure, and I'm a virgin."

I took a long sip and changed the subject. "What about your guy? He seemed... interesting."

"Club guy," she said, with a dismissive wave. "Cute enough. Probably won't remember my name." Then her eyes softened. "But never mind me. You've got a big day tomorrow."

I paused. "What?"

"Your move? Southern View? Please don't tell me you forgot."

I groaned, dropping my head back against the fridge. "No, I didn't forget. I just didn't want to think about it."

Kate stepped closer, her voice lowering. "I'll come by later and help you pack, okay? But for now, get some rest. You look like you need it."

"Thanks," I muttered.

She smiled and turned to leave. "Oh-almost forgot. A package came for you. From your office. It's on the kitchen counter. I didn't open it, but... it felt weird."

I glanced over. A small, unmarked box sat quietly by the toaster.

"What is it?"

"No clue," she said. "But after everything, be careful; it might be a bomb. Just saying."

"Gee, thanks, Kate, very reassuring." I watched her go, then turned to the box. It was plain. No labels. No markings. Just my name on the top in bold black ink. I picked it up-it was light, but unsettling. I gave it a little shake. Nothing.

Something about it didn't feel right.

I set it back down. I was too tired to care right now. My head was pounding, my body sore in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant. I needed sleep to reset.

Even as I made my way to my bedroom, stripped off my dress, and sank into the sheets, that damn box stayed on my mind, a nagging reminder that my life was about to change in ways I couldn't yet understand. And whatever it was... it wasn't good.