“Luckily Elliot found you.”
My eyes snap back to Daniel. “Who?”
“Elliot Miles brought you home.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“But nobody was here so he stayed with you until I arrived.”
My hands go to my head in horror. “What the fuck? He came . . . here?”
I begin to pace.
“Looked pretty damn at home too, sitting there holding your hand and all.”
I smile in relief. “Oh, fuck off, you nearly had me for a moment. What really happened, did we get drunk?”
“I’m deadly serious.” He stands and goes over to my bedside table, picks up a white card and passes it to me.
ELLIOT MILES
0423 009 973
“Nooooooo,” I splutter. “Oh no, no, no, no.” My heart begins to race. I point to the floor. “He was here. In my bedroom?” I point to the floor again. “Here.”
“Yes.”
I push my fingers into my eye sockets in horror. “Why did you let him in?” I look around at my bombshell of a bedroom. “This place is a fucking mess.”
Daniel shrugs. “He didn’t seem to mind.”
“Why? What, I mean . . . Why do you say that?”
“He seemed very happy holding your hand.”
My eyes hit saucer size. “He was actually holding my hand . . . what the fuck was I doing?”
“You were all snuggled into him.”
“What!” I screech. I drop my head into my hands. “Oh my God, I’m going to die a thousand deaths.”
“You know you should be grateful. He was looking after you.”
“Are you kidding me?” I cry, storm into my bathroom, and look around: there’s a basket of dirty washing and tampons are on the cabinet next to the sink.
He saw this mess, he saw me asleep . . . I was snuggled into him.
“Kill me now!” I cry. “My life is officially over.”
Daniel chuckles as he goes to walk out of the room. “I must say, he’s fucking hot though, right?”
I pick up a cushion off my bed and hurl it at him. “Get out.”
“Thank you for sleeping on my floor and checking on me all night, Daniel,” he says sweetly.
“Thanks for ruining my life and letting him in,” I cry.
“I didn’t let him in, you let him in.”
Oh no.
Another horrible thought enters my brain. “What the fuck did I say to him?”
I begin to pace as I run my hands through my hair in dismay. “What if I told him . . .” I whisper out loud to myself.
“That you think he’s hot?” Daniel interrupts my mental breakdown.
My eyes flick up to him. “I do not,” I snap.
Daniel smirks. “If you didn’t think he was hot, then it wouldn’t matter that he saw your dirty panties in the laundry basket and your tampons on the side.”
“Ahhhh,” I cry as I slap my hands over my eyes. “Get out!”
Daniel whistles as he saunters down the stairs.
I sink into a seated position on the bed as I feel the blood drain from my face.