4. Windsor

CHAPTER 4

Staring up at the ceiling, my mind remains hazy, and my body is deliciously sore as I recall all the delightfully filthy things we did last night. I'd never experienced anything like it in my life.

I felt…alive.

Less alone.

Like I mattered to someone.

Now…they're gone.

The bed is cold where they passed out next to me. Outside my bedroom door, it is silent, and my intuition says they've been gone for hours. I'm unsure if I'm grateful or angry. On one hand, there's no awkward morning after; on the other, will my first day of work next week be the awkwardness I'm not experiencing now?

I've never had a one-night stand before, never even thought about it. But somehow, those two men pushed right through my walls and straight into my bed. I could have stopped it; I know they'd have listened.

So why didn't I?

That's the sixty-four-million-dollar question, isn't it?

Sweeping the blankets aside, I slowly move my achy body out of bed and towards the shower. If nothing else, I need to freshen myself up before tackling the day.

As I walk, I feel stickiness between my legs and stare down to see dried fluids on my thighs, and I know, like I know the moon is bright even when it's dark, that we were not safe last night.

"Oh. My. God," I gasp. "Windsor, you idiot!" How could I be so stupid?

A flash of dark hair and lust-filled eyes penetrate my brain, and I realize how I was so irresponsible. Those two men consumed me, and I never stood a chance. I didn't even think about protection. I wonder if they did. Probably not. Things moved quickly once we got to the bedroom.

Grabbing my phone, I ignore everything but the calendar. My cycle has been regular for years. It shouldn't be an ovulation day; I should be in the clear. Not that that typically matters.

Mercy, what have I done?

I'll visit the pharmacy, get a Plan B pill, and then get to the doctor to start birth control immediately. Not that it matters because once I sign the contract and begin working for them, nothing will happen ever again, but I should be better prepared for the future.

I sag against the wall momentarily to get my bearings, then rush through a shower and get dressed after drying my hair. I sign the contract, so this can never happen again, and I make a plan for the day: pharmacy, call the doctor, hardware store—because I need to reinforce my door—then clothes shopping for my new job.

Buzzing excitement over landing my first job has me pulling out my phone as I leave my condo so I can text Boston Falco. He's the only person I really have to talk to anymore.

You have two sisters, my pesky inner voice reminds me.

Biting my lip as I lock my door, I hustle quickly to the stairwell before Joe can come out and stop my departure.

Me: I got the job! You're speaking to Graham Shipping it's just how do I give money to one person and not the next? I'd go broke quickly if I gave it to everyone I came across who needed a hand up.

Breathing easier as I reach the store I'm looking for, Pilgrim New York, I enter with a smile. I've always wanted to shop here but have never had the funds to do so. I'm slightly worried that the employees will be rude and dismissive.

Color me surprised when an associate greets me with a bottle of water and a welcoming smile. After explaining my needs and budget, she helps me with a small but mighty wardrobe, showing me how different pieces can interchange with others so that it appears as though I have much more than what I'm purchasing.

All in all, I know I'll return, and I'm happy with the outfits and shoes I'm leaving with.

Deciding to grab a cab back to my apartment before I walk to the hardware store down the street from me, I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders. For so long, I've felt like I was holding the world in one hand and a tower made of glass in the other, always balancing and never taking care of me. Now, as much as it pains me to admit, I don't have to worry about anyone but me, and it's a welcome relief.