The Good Girl (2 page)

The sun streaming in through gauzy curtains woke me.
Immediately, I knew I wasn’t in my apartment. My southern facing bedroom window never allowed in this kind of blinding light any time of day. This had never happened to me before, waking up in a stranger’s bed, struggling to recall the events preceding it. Slowly, I opened my eyes and tried to gather my bearings. Where was I? Looking to my left, the direction my body seemed to be leaning, I realized that I was in bed...his bed. Somehow I had fallen prey to Wyatt.

Slapping a hand over my mouth, I muffled my need to scream. That rat bastard. He had tricked me. I was still laying there, staring at him, trying desperately to remember everything when he rolled over and smiled at me.

“Well, princess, way to prove a point. You sure are fun,” he chuckled.

My stomach rolled.
I panicked. And Wyatt sprang to his feet. He hauled me from the bed, rushed me into the bathroom on the other side of the room, pushed the lid of the toilet open, bent me over, and held my hair back from my face while I threw up my stomach contents. As the seconds passed, it seemed I was going to retch forever. What a way to wake up...in a strange bed...with a virtual stranger...completely hung over.

“Just let me die,” I moaned while he held my hair back with one hand and rubbed my back with the other.

“You aren’t going to die,” he assured me. “You are just going to
wish
you would.”

I didn’t need to look at his face to know that he was silently laughing at me. For some reason, it almost made me feel better. Almost. Then I remembered the shame I was currently bringing on the Stone family name and stiffened up once more.

He sighed.
I heard it. “Why do you do that?” He asked seriously. “Just when it seems like you might be loosening up, might be calming down, you get all cold again.”

My shoulders fell. He spoke the truth. I took a moment to wipe my mouth, blow my nose and swipe at my eyes before I turned to face him. “Was I
really
fun last night?” I asked quietly.

There was an almost caring look on his face as he wiped away the last remaining tears with his thumb. “Yes, doll. You were very fun last night.”

Unsure of whether to be proud or ashamed, I looked up at him through my damp eyelashes. “I don’t remember,” I said.

“I bet
that’s
never happened to you before.” He looked at me while awaiting an answer; so I shook my head shyly. “Didn’t think so.” Throwing an arm around my shoulders, he helped me to a standing position. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about it over breakfast.” I made a face at the mere thought of eating. “You’ll love it. I know the cure.”

Looking up at him doubtfully, I spoke once more.
“The cure?”

“Yup, the hangover cure. We’ll fix you in no time. You’ll be right as rain and cold as ice once more.” He chuckled as he walked bare ass naked back to the bed.

That’s when I realized with a gulp, that I was, too.

Apparently, the cure for a hangover was Coke and french fries. At least, that’s what he claimed upon his return from McDonald’s and hauled me out of the bathroom where I had remained in his absence...just in case. Coke and french fries. I never knew that. Of course, I had never needed the cure before, either. That made a difference. While everyone else in the dorm was asleep on the weekends, as a journalism major, I was headed to the college paper to get caught up on work. I wouldn’t even return to the dorms until long after brunch and closer to dinner. That routine had served me well through the college years, but it had done nothing to prepare me for the hangover I was currently experiencing.

“You’re kind of cute when you keep your mouth closed,” Wyatt joked while he crammed fries into his own.

It was all I could do to nod.

“Come on,” he urged.
“This will help you feel better. Promise.” He watched me for a moment, but I simply sat there, slumped against the wall behind the bed. “You want to know about last night?”

Slowly, I nodded again, but I refused to open my mouth. After what I had seen in reverse this morning, there was no telling what would come out next.

“Okay, I’ll talk...if you eat.” Sipping on a large Coke, he smiled calmly, certain that I would bend.

Involuntarily, I shrank back at the very suggestion. My stomach was rolling just from watching him. Then, my face flushed because...I was watching him.

Wyatt shrugged. “Okay, you don’t want to know about last night. No problem! I guess you can just read about it...with the rest of the world...on my blog…” He grabbed a few more fries off the pile in the center of the coffee table, and chewed slowly while his words bounced around in my mind.

With my heart in my throat, my shaky right hand reached reluctantly for the smallest fry I could find. I drew it to my lips, took a deep stabilizing breath, sighed and stuck the fry in before I could change my mind. Then I clapped that same hand over my mouth while I chewed. It seemed like it would never be the right consistency to swallow. After some struggle, I managed to get it down.

Scared that it was going to make a reappearance, I grabbed the soda he had set in front of me and took several long sips from the straw. Waiting, I could sense something had changed within me. My stomach seemed...more stable.

“Told you,” he said smugly.

“That is
so
unattractive,” I muttered.

“You thought I was attractive enough last night,” he teased.

“Dear Lord! What the hell happened last night?” I moaned. Obviously, I had once again brought shame to the Stone family name. In the past, such instances had been the result of poor grades and performance anxiety. There was the time I earned less than straight ‘A’s in high school
one quarter.
Let’s not forget the only semester I failed to make the Dean’s List. Oh, and the time I fumbled through one stanza of my piano recital piece when I was four. I am such a disappointment. This, no doubt, would overshadow all those past wrongs...especially if it involved the world wide web.

“Let me preface this tale with...I don’t have a blog.”
He watched for my reaction, then ducked the pillow I had launched at his head. “Now, let me end with...nothing.”

Staring at him, I waited for the punch line. This made no sense. “I woke up naked,” I mourned. “I’m going to need a few more details.”

His head was tilted to one side.
I rather liked the scruff on his jaw, his messy short black hair, and the twinkle in those Caribbean blue eyes, even if it was the result of annoying me. Somehow I was even able to look past that wrinkled shirt to appreciate those broad shoulders, and strong neck. It was all I could do to not study him further. Chances were, he was used to that. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Yeah, you were naked. I thought you’d be more comfortable if I took you out of that dress.” He smiled at me warmly for the first time.

Shaking my head, I urged, “Go back farther. Please. What happened at the bar?”

“Oh, that. You were trying to prove a point, remember?” He pushed the Coke towards me. “Drink and I’ll tell you everything. Promise.” He waited to speak until I had picked up the soda and was sipping on it. “So, we were just about to start our little challenge. I had two shots lined up on the bar for us. That’s when the other chick showed up.”

My mind was foggy. I squinted my eyes as I struggled to fill that dark void in my memory. Then I slapped my forehead. “Molina! That bitch.”

“Yes, she made some kind of remark about how you weren’t the type to take a shot and you proved her wrong. In fact, you kept proving her wrong...by being the kind of girl to get shitfaced in a bar, to go home with a random guy, and to now...do the walk of shame.” He chuckled, then gestured around. “Man, did you show her.”

“I hate her.” Burying my head in my free hand, I lamented all the errors I had made in the past twenty-four hours because of Molina. Too many, really.

“What is it with you and that chick?” He sat back as he waited for me to explain.

“Just tell me how I ended up completely naked first.”
I ordered while shaking my head in shame.

“Bossy. I knew that about you before this, of course.” He challenged me to argue that, but I couldn’t. It was part of my upbringing, although the Stones preferred to think of this as a leadership ability. We were groomed to be be quick to take charge of situations, and unafraid to delegate duties. Seeing I would remain silent, he continued. “Simple and boring, really. When I took your dress off, you just kept going.”

My eyes widened.
“So,
I
stripped myself? Anything else I should know?”

That smile widened to show a perfect set of pearly white teeth. “Well, you did try to take advantage of me.”

I gasped as my face flushed.

“Don’t worry, Willow. I didn’t do anything but hold you,” he said softly as he attempted to soothe me from the safety of the other end of the couch.

“You said I was fun…”
My voice trailed off in confusion. None of this seemed like me.

Nodding, he said, “You
were
fun. For a while, you relaxed and joked around. There were even a few hours in there that you let people see who you really are. And then, when we came here, because you were in no condition to drive and couldn’t tell me your address, you were all soft and snuggly.” He sighed as he struggled to explain. “It was nice for me. A nice change.”

“Right, I forgot. Because you are such a man whore that you are used to screwing everything that is anatomically correct!” For some reason, even though he hadn’t done anything and had been a complete gentleman, I was furious. It took me a moment...then I realized what had me so upset. He hadn’t slept with
me
.

For years, I had watched girls of all shapes, sizes, races, and ages leave his room at dawn, but me...he had no interest in. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. Maybe I really was that unattractive. Maybe I really didn’t know how to seduce a man. At twenty-two...I had still only slept with two guys. Two. Both of them only once. Once! What was wrong with me?

Worse, somehow...Jacqueline knew...she could sense it. I would never get that stupid columnist position. How could I ever hope to write advice to the lovelorn, the sexually stumped, if I knew nothing about it myself? No one was more lovelorn or stumped than me.

The tears threatened to spill over, but Stones don’t cry. So, I leapt from the couch and rushed back to the bathroom. Then I slammed the door behind me. I didn’t mean to. Stones don’t slam, either. Okay, the women don’t. Of course, since everything in the past eighteen hours had been completely un-Stone-like, and especially since Wyatt didn’t know me, he would be none the wiser. Before I managed to even dry my eyes and pull myself together, he was at the door, knocking. And before I could warn him not to enter, he was in the room, tugging me into his arms. I wanted to struggle. I totally meant to push off his strong chest, but somehow, he managed to capture me and hold me against him just perfectly so that my head was nuzzled in his neck and my nearly stuffy nostrils were filled with the unfamiliar and completely unique scent of him.

The worst part? I liked it. For the first time ever, I could feel myself melting into him. Through the years, I had snuck in my guilty pleasure, romance novels, and I would read about this. All of this. Never before did I understand. Now I knew what it meant. I knew how it felt to melt into a man. But why...
why
did it have to be this one?

“Talk to me,” he murmured quietly into my hair.
“What did I do? What did I say to make you cry?” He stroked my long blonde locks and cupped the side of my face while swiping at a rogue tear. I pulled back some, far enough to see the perfect drop perched on the pad of his thumb. It was mesmerizing, watching it float through the space between us until he brought it to his lips. His tongue darted out and caught it. Closing his mouth meaningfully, he stared into my watery green eyes. “Let me swallow your sorrow. Let me fix this please.”

There was more unfamiliar action inside me. This time, I’m certain it was my heart.

Everything changed after that. Wyatt had expressed his desire to swallow my sorrow and then I expressed mine.

“How can I fix this?” He asked.

Shaking my head, I looked down, avoiding his eyes. “You can’t. Obviously, I’m just not desirable.”

He stepped back suddenly. Then his hand shot out and he forced my chin up. “Is that what you think? You think you aren’t attractive, that I didn’t want you?”

Suddenly, I realized then how pathetic I must seem. Stones are never pathetic. So, I set my jaw and my steely demeanor. “So, I’m not your type. I never realized you had such discerning tastes.”

Studying my eyes for a moment, he chuckled. “I have very discerning tastes. It’s good that you noticed.” Slowly, he closed the distance once more. “Just know that I don’t take advantage of inebriated women.”

I could feel his breath on my face. It was warm and inviting, but I didn’t want to give in so easily. This...weak chick...wasn’t me. So, I placed my hand on his chest to secure the distance between us.

A smile spread across his face. Again, his sparkling eyes threatened to melt me. “Think that’s going to hold me off, doll?” He asked seductively. “How else can I prove to you that you are sexy as hell, when you aren’t pissing me off?” Without saying another word, his hands were suddenly on my waist, and even faster, his pelvis was pressing against mine.

Then I felt it...his erection. It was hot steel against me. Without thinking, I lifted one leg and threw it around him, yanking him closer to me. Instincts had kicked in and I just needed him where he belonged...
in me.
Dear Lord, I needed this man IN ME.

“Look who’s sober now,” he murmured against my lips before tilting his head and making his intentions clear. One hand continued to press his pelvis into me and the other traveled up my back, until it was knotted in my hair, and he was kissing me with an intensity I had previously only seen in movies. When that hand on my lower back moved to cup my buttocks, I hopped enough to wrap my other leg around him, too.

Ever so briefly, his eyes opened in surprise. This, I knew because I couldn’t close mine. For some reason, I wanted to remember every moment of this, and the journalist in me had to see and mentally record every bit of it for that to happen. Seconds later, he had backed up out of the bathroom and moved toward the still unmade bed. As soon as he deposited me on that bed, he started ripping off his clothes, starting with his t-shirt. Finally, he was standing before me completely naked. Damn, I was ready to join him, eager to touch him, dying to feel him. Wyatt didn’t make me wait long. Soon he had bent over me and was tugging off my panties, yanking the shirt he had loaned me over my head, and was slipping the bra off me like the pro I had imagined him to be. Despite lack of experience, I still knew that my body was more than ready to accommodate his and instinct had me spreading my legs by way of invitation.

“Not yet, doll,” he said seductively. “I’m going to make this last.”

His very words had me breaking out in
goose bumps. Even though nothing had really happened between us yet, I could tell it was going to be entirely different from the adolescent fumblings of my first time on prom night junior year and my second time at a graduation party the year after that. Honestly, after those times, I wondered what the big deal was. No wonder I hadn’t bothered to sleep with anyone in college. Actually, I had considered never sleeping with anyone again.

This...was already better. Soon, it was better and better. There was something about the heated look in his eye as he studied my body. His hands were on my hips, but I wanted them everywhere else, everywhere he had already scorched me with his gaze. Shifting uncomfortably, I didn’t even realize that I was biting my lower lip.

Instantly, his eyes focused in on my face. Leaning down, he nipped at my lower lip. “Doll, don’t do that. Never do that. Lip biting...would suggest you want me.”

My face flushed, my lids lowered. Shame kept me from meeting his eyes. Still, I had been trained to be bold. Collecting myself, I raised those eyes, stuck out my chin and replied, “The lips don’t lie.” I forced myself to meet his face.

A smile spread across his face. “I like that.” Without saying another word, he had lowered himself until every inch of him from his pelvis to his shoulder was pressed against every bit of me. Those deadly lips grazed my ear and his breath tickled some place deep within me as he added, “My penis doesn’t either.” For emphasis, he pressed his erection against my pelvis.

Reminding myself to breathe, I tried to hide my reaction. Instead, it earned me another response from him. He had taken one look at my passive gaze and announced, “You are ruining this for me.”

As he spoke, I could feel his erection softening until finally, he rolled off me and laid beside me on his back while staring up at the ceiling. With a sigh, he glanced away from me at the clock. I watched him for a moment. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. It was 3:00pm on a Saturday. I had spent entirely too much time here. For nothing. Without saying another word, he stood and headed to the bathroom while mumbling something about having to get ready for work.

Alone in the room, I rushed to get dressed. There was no way I wanted to be here when he came out of that room. I’m pretty sure that killing Wyatt’s erection was the nail in the coffin that my sex life had become. Bye-bye, sex column; hello, job hunt. Without even looking back, I rushed from the apartment and out into the warm afternoon sun, sweating out last night’s alcohol and a lifetime of disappointment. Never again. I never, ever wanted to see him again. So, in retrospect, I probably should have taken my phone with me...

When I made it out of the apartment, I realized that it wasn’t an apartment at all. Instead, it seemed Wyatt lived above a garage...a really big garage that was attached to a really big house. Rather than waste time looking around and risk being seen by the residents, I rushed down the driveway as quickly as possible, trying to reach the anonymity that I sought once I hit the main road. I hadn’t made it ten feet down the road before a vehicle slowed and pulled alongside me. Even though it was late in the afternoon, making the walk of shame less obvious, I still didn’t want to meet the eyes of the person behind the wheel.

“Need a ride?” The female voice seemed so familiar.

My hungover brain was struggling to place it when I caught a glimpse of the hubcap beside me. It was a BMW. The paint was red.
Crap crap crap!
Then, I saw her smiling, flawless face. “Oh, no. Thank you for offering, Molina.” I tried to pick up the pace, but these shoes weren’t really made for walking. My plan had been to go from the office, to City Tavern and then home. I should be walking to the car and back, not trekking down the road.

“You do realize that it’s a good three miles back to your vehicle, right?” She was smirking at me. It was one of her least desirable qualities.

Turning to face her, my hands flew to my hips. Honestly, I still had no idea where I was. All I knew was that my plan was to walk to a street sign so that I could call a cab, once I had a location. Now, the one person I really never wanted to see again was the first face I was seeing for the day, aside from the man I had humiliated myself in front of; who I also never wanted to see again. Huh, a pattern seemed to be emerging. “No, I had no idea, but I could use some fresh air,” I said before I started down the road once more.

She had stopped the car in the middle of the road and was standing outside of it, leaning over it as she tried to reason with me. “Just let me drive you back. I’m not doing it for you, it’s about the shoes. I’m rescuing them from complete and utter ruin.” She pointed at the shoes that had become my pride and joy: the Louboutins...black, sassy, open toe, bow. When I wore them, I felt invincible. Maybe I should have had them on in Wyatt’s bed…

Opening my purse, I felt around for my phone.
For one brief moment, I considered dumping the entire contents of the purse out on the ground, but realized that was really the only way I could look more pathetic than I already did. Obviously, my phone wasn’t in there. For a moment, I tried to consider when I had last seen it. Then I recalled that while Wyatt was gone to pick up ‘the cure’ that I had checked my messages, responded to emails, and even perused my Facebook newsfeed. Then I set it down on the nightstand when he walked in with the McDonalds bag.
Fuck.
Hanging my head in shame, I could feel the onset of a really nasty headache just behind my right eyeball. Today was completely craptastic. Finally, I looked up as I heard Molina drumming her fingers on the roof of the car. Swallowing my pride, I spoke. “Okay. For the shoes.”

With that, I stumbled back to her waiting car, opened the door, and lowered myself on the seat. This was proving to be a ridiculously long day. Now, with my phone problems, there was no end in sight.

“So, how was your night?”
Molina asked, interrupting my foul mood to touch on an even sorer subject. There was a twinkle in her eye. “I hope you had a really good time since you cost me in the office pool.”

My ears perked up.
There was an office pool? “How’s that?” It took all my effort to remember to hold my head high, keep my shoulders back and my chin up.
#thestrugglesofastone
Yeah, stupid social media, I even added hashtags to my inner dialog.

“Well, someone suggested that you would never go home with a bartender and next thing you know, everyone is throwing in.” She chuckled to herself.

“Just who was that someone?”
I wondered.

Turning to meet my eyes, she admitted, “It was me.”
A smile grew and her full lush lips parted to expose her perfect white teeth. “Sorry to have underestimated your charms.” She winked at me playfully.

It was easy to see why she was so popular.
She had this way about her, this confidence that had nothing to do with her posture. No wonder the men found her to be so appealing. Even though she could be incredibly catty, most of the women in the office flocked to her, too. Sometimes it was fashion advice, since she appeared to be so cutting edge. Other times they questioned her about guys, relationships, and sex. I sighed. She probably was a shoo-in for the column. What did I have to offer but speculation and writing skill?

Without my response, she still managed to continue the conversation quite nicely.
“So, is his ass as nice as I imagined it to be all evening?” She was baiting me.

“Better,” I admitted with a sigh.
Holding my hands up, I tried to express how shapely yet utterly masculine and grippable it was. Feeling as though I was failing miserably, I dropped my hands and simply shrugged with a knowing smile. It wasn’t a lie, I had seen him naked.

“Was it divine?
Was he absolutely amazing?” This she asked with a breathy sigh. Clearly, she was going to continue asking. If she did, it wouldn’t take long for her to realize that I hadn’t had sex with him...or hardly anyone else.

Taking a deep breath, I crafted my explanation. “Really, Molina, I’m not one to kiss and tell.” I tried to mimic her wink and expression, but probably failed quite miserably. These things don’t come easily to Stones, or maybe it’s just me.

Shaking her head, she replied, “Lucky.”

Settling back into the leather, I turned my attention to the passing scenery.
Let her think what she would, I was worrying about how I was going to reclaim my phone.

“You know, Jacqueline certainly was looking at you differently by the end of the night.” She was glancing at me sideways, waiting for a response.