Chapter 2

HAILEY:

My eyes flicker open. And the first thing they come in contact with is a ceiling that is certainly not the ceiling in my room. It prompts me to sit up from whatever bed I am lying on but I instantly regret it.

“Ow,” A throb flashes through my brain. It was so painful that, for a minute, I find my eyes spinning. Geez, what was that?

When I feel a little better, the first I ask myself is: Where am I?

I have no idea where this is, and with the way it looks, I’m sure about it being expensive. Certainly way out of my reach. I do not own enough to afford an apartment with a room as flourishing as this.

The chandelier, the fragrance, everything just about sums up the fact that this is not my room. Or am I dreaming?

The moment I knew there was more to what is going on here was when I realize that I am unclad. The only thing covering up my naked body is a piece of white sheet. Tugging it off me would reveal nothing underneath.

How did I get to this position... naked in an unknown room? Just what did I do to get myself in this situation?

I pull the sheet close to me and then try to wrap it around me as I set my foot on the cold marble floor. Now, this is truly way out of my reach. Whose room is this? Hell, how did I get in here?

I hear the sound of a door opening and so I look up immediately to take a look at what caused it to open. And that is when the sight of a man flashes right to my face. A man in a white singlet and an unknown colored shorts.

As if on cue, memories start to flash right into my head. Memories of how I most likely got myself here.

Last night, I had too much to drink. And it was all because I was bemoaning my loss of a job. Then I was approached by a total stranger who turned out to be the man standing here with me now.

We got into talking and the last thing I remember was him kissing me. And did I return the kiss? I sure did because I felt it was the only thing I needed at that moment. Now it was probably what landed me here.

“You’re up,” the man with the bulging arms says. Seeing him with just a singlet makes me realize how much of a huge man he is.

“Is this your room?” I find myself asking because I really am inquisitive now.

The man looks around the room for a while before responding, “Yes,”

Instantly, unstable thoughts start to go through my head. I am aware now of the fact that if this is his room, and with me naked, then something totally unplanned might have happened.

“Did we...” I try to say but the words feel heavy in my mouth. I have to swallow a gulp in my throat before I proceed to speak. “Did anything happen between us?”

The man’s face etches into a frown. “Of course not,” he says, disregarding the idea.

“And why should I believe that we didn’t do anything?”

“Because you were drunk,”

“More reason why something would have happened,”

“I’m sorry but I do not take advantage of drunk girls. It’s a code I live by,”

I find myself shutting up on the next thing I have to say. I have to think of something else if I want to get the possible truth out of him. Although I am not sure if he would spill because he seems adamant about nothing happening between us.

I finally think of something to say and so I ask, “Are you going to explain why I do not have my clothes on then?”

He raises his brows at me. “You puked all over yourself at the bar. I had to bring you home so you could wash up,” he pauses briefly and then says, “You mean you do not remember anything?”

“I don’t,” I admit to him and then hear him murmur. I do not even bother to ask him what he was murmuring about because I have other pressing issues. “Still, you’re telling me now that you took off my clothes and washed the stain off me?”

“That doesn’t sound like a thank you,”

“Thank you? Thank you that a random stranger took me home and stripped me naked just because I puked all over myself? Why would a bar allow...”

“...you forgot to mention that you did it on me too,”

Although I heard him say that as a means to cut me off, I ignore him and continue with my supposed rant about the situation, “...a customer to be handled by someone the customer has no idea about?”

Suddenly I hear my phone ringing. I locate it on the cabinet by the bedside and pick it up to see the ID of the caller and that is when I see a title: ‘Boyfriend’.

Boyfriend? Since when did I get into a relationship?

My attention is shifted to the man to see him waving a phone. Then I watch his finger tap on the screen of the phone in his hand, and at the same time, my phone stops ringing.

I get the memo immediately. “How...”

“You were drunk remember? It was easy for me to get you to open your phone which I used to save my number on it. That was the only way I could get the bartender to believe I know you and also save you from the prying eyes of the bartender,”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’m sure you weren’t observant. If you were, you would have noticed his eyes on you all through. Seems like he had plans to have you for himself after you got completely stoned. Fortunately, I was there to save the day. So a thank you would do,”

In my mind, I start to condemn myself for almost getting myself into trouble. It was the first time I would find myself getting all drunk and look how it almost made matters worse for me.

“But there’s no difference between you and him? I still remember you kissing me—”

“Which you enjoyed,” he interrupts, making me a little embarrassed.

“I never did,” I counter.

He only smiles in return. “We never got to formally introduce ourselves. I’m Jax. What’s your name?”

Oh goodness, does this mean a stranger that I knew nothing about him, not even his name, had me in his apartment the whole night? This is insane.

“Hailey,” I tell him, a little bothered that I made a complete fool of myself last night.

“So, Hailey,” the man now known as Jax — almost a strange name I must say — calls my name in a tone that tingles a sensation in me, “do you care for something hot? I know you’re suffering from a hangover now,”

I decline. “No, I’m fine,”

“Coming right up,” he says and then turns around to walk out of the room, leaving me in a confused state. Didn’t he just hear what I said?

I peel my eyes off the doorway that led out of the room and instead look at my phone. After pressing the power button, the screen saver is revealed as well as the time. Eight-forty it says.

About two minutes later, Jax is back in the room with a cup in hand atop a saucer. He walks up to the bed and then hands over the cup to me which I reluctantly accept with a ‘thank you’.

“Can I get my clothes now?” I demand after taking a sip of the content of the cup. It starts like herbs. Pretty sure it is herbal tea. But I do not bother to ask.

“Soon,” Jax says. “I checked the dryer and realized your clothes are still a little wet. Give it about ten more minutes,”

I nod and then take another sip of the drink. It feels refreshing. And I’m glad he didn’t listen to me when I declined initially.

“I’m totally sorry about the loss of your job,” I hear Jax say and my brows are squinted.

“Did I say too much last night?” I have to ask, realizing that I actually told a stranger about my personal issue.

“For a drunk lady, you managed to compose yourself last night. So don’t worry, you didn’t say too much. The only notable thing was the loss of your job which I am sympathizing with you about now,”

Thank goodness, I say in my mind. “Thank you,” I tell him and then proceed to down the whole content of the cup despite it being hot. I put the cup and saucer on the cabinet after that.

“You okay with that?”

“Yeah, thanks,” I say, my hand gripping tightly on the sheet around my body. “I'm sorry for throwing up on you last night,” I apologize, feeling a little ashamed about my actions last night.

He smiles. And I can tell that it’s a genuine one. “It’s fine. You had no control of the situation,”

Then an awkward silence brews between us. I am trying to figure out how to tell him that he could hand over the clothes to me like that because I am eager to leave this place now.

“Now that you are without a job, what do you intend to do?” Jax asks and I look up at him.

“I don’t know. Start job hunting or something?”

“Would you consider working for me?”

“You?” I ask. “Didn’t you mention that you had an issue with a deal that could make your position insecure in whatever company that is?”

“Perhaps I forgot to mention that the company, in particular, belongs to me,”

“Oh,” I utter in realization. “But I don’t think I would want to work under someone I had an intimate moment with. It could make the job atmosphere uncomfortable for me,”

“I see,” he says, nodding after. In no time, he adds, “Well, I’ve got a much better idea then. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable with this one,”

My interest is piqued because I am hoping that he is about to relay a genuinely better idea. So I ask, “And what might that be?”

He stares at me for a while. And as I am wondering about his unintended silence, he finally speaks:

“Be my woman...”