3. Cora

Whoever took a jackhammer to my head is going to die. It feels like a thousand tiny people with pickaxes in my head.

They keep digging away at the edges of my brain as I bury myself beneath the warm blankets.

The last thing I want to do is get out of bed right now. The mattress is soft, and the scent of a spicy cologne lingers on the sheets.

Yawning, I roll over and pull the blanket away from my face.

Though staying in bed all day sounds like a good idea, I'm not twenty-one anymore. I can't spend the day rotting and nursing a hangover.

With a groan, I open my eyes and immediately shut them again. The bright light streaming through the open windows is too much to handle right now.

It threatens to burn my retinas, and the bright rays only make the tiny people with pickaxes angrier.

"Somebody just kill me." I groan and squeeze my eyes shut tighter, but it does nothing to dull the pounding. "That is the last night I'm drinking. Never going to happen again."

My stomach churns as I dig the heels of my hands against my eyelids.

The pressure does nothing to take away the pain in my head. I should have known that getting drunk last night with my boss was a mistake.

Kissing him was an even bigger mistake. It's the kind of mistake that could end my career.

But the truth is that the kiss left me spiraling. I kept drinking to bury the feelings. Kissing the man I thought I'd despised for years…felt good.

Too good to be true.

My heart was pounding, and my center was throbbing so hard, so thrilling. Kissing Griffin felt right last night.

But why…? Even if I were wasted, I wouldn't have enjoyed kissing him so much if I weren't attracted to him…

Putting my feelings aside, I remind myself that he's my boss and my brother's best friend. I knew in the back of my mind that taking things further would be a bad decision.

Drinking seemed like it would erase the desire that pulsed through me when we kissed.

The shots were supposed to replace the feeling of Griffin's lips on mine, his hands roaming my back.

I must have had a major lapse in judgment. That's the only reason I would have kissed Griffin.

I open my eyes slowly only to realize the room isn't mine. I quickly close my eyes.

If I'm lucky, when I open them again, I'll be back in my own room. My laptop will be on the nightstand next to my bottle of perfume.

An empty champagne bottle and two glasses will be waiting to be climbed up.

I won't be relaxing in a bed that smells like a man's cologne.

With fingers crossed, I open my eyes again.

None of my belongings are placed neatly on the dresser. The perfume bottle isn't on the nightstand.

Whose room am I in?

Would clicking my heels together three times get me back to my own room?

My chest constricts as I get out of bed and stand up. The room feels like the floor is about to fall from beneath me.

I don't know where I am, and trying to stand straight is hell.

Pain shoots through my temples as I glance at the windows.

The thick curtains are still wide open—another sign I had no clue what I was doing when I came to this room last night.

I would have never fallen asleep with the curtains open.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my dress. Blood rushes in my ears as I look for anything personal.

Did I go back to the hotel with someone from the bar?

Did I make exceptionally stupid decisions last night?

With a stumbling step forward, I reach for the closet door. My heart hammers as I pull open the door.

A sigh of relief follows when I see a familiar sight of the suits I picked up from the dry cleaners the day before we left for the retreat.

But the relief quickly turns into a panic when it clicks that I'm in Griffin's room.

I have no business waking up in Griffin's bed.

In fact, I had no business dancing with Griffin last night, kissing him, or whatever we did for the rest of the night that I can't remember.

With trembling hands, I instinctively reach down to check for my underwear. The fabric, still snug and intact, brings a flood of relief washing over me.

A sigh escapes my lips, and I feel a weight lift from my chest. Last night's events have blurred, but this simple confirmation brings clarity and reassurance.

That is the last time I ever go out drinking.

But I did make out with my boss on the dance floor in a bar.

I'm not better than Victor was. He cheated on me with someone at work, risking his job for a fling.

And now, here I am doing the same thing.

I groan and quietly head into the ensuite bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. This must be some bad nightmare that I will wake up from soon.

Except, it isn't.

In the mirror is a woman I don't recognize. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are bright.

She looks alive and not the shell of the person I've been feeling like since I ended the engagement with Victor.

It's hard to believe that one night is enough to change everything, but it is.

My gaze drops to the dark mark at the base of my neck. My cheeks flame and I have half a mind to hunt Griffin down and wring his neck.

I can't believe I let him leave a damn hickey on my neck.

After splashing another round of cold water on my face, I leave the washroom and look around the base of the bed for my heels.

I get to my knees and crawl around, my stomach lurching.

The room around me is spinning as I lift the edge of the duvet and look beneath the bed.

My heels are kicked under it, and reassuringly, there are no condom wrappers tossed around them.

Even drunk, I don't think I would be stupid enough to sleep with Griffin.

Except there is that stupid part of me that can't shake my attraction for him. It's nothing more than physical, but my heart speeds up a little every time I see him.

More than one night has been spent picturing what it would be like to have him.

I stand and put on my heels, my eyes burning as I look out the window. I don't know how long I've been with Griffin or if Kaleigh is looking for me.

Either way, I have to get out of here before anyone finds us together. Even if nothing happened, people would be quick to make assumptions.

I wobble out of the room, my head spinning. I need to get back to my room, pop some headache pills, and then go find the greasiest breakfast sandwich known to man.

Griffin is still snoring on the couch, his hair tousled and his shirt off. My gaze darts down to his toned body as I stand in the doorway a little too long. My core clenches, thinking about the kiss we shared and the way those muscles felt beneath my hands.

He mumbles something in his sleep, though it's so soft I miss the words.

Griffin rolls over and pulls a throw pillow closer to his chest. His dark eyelashes flutter against his high cheekbones.

It's not fair that he looks this good when he's sleeping.

I rake my hand through my hair, my fingers catching on several knots. With a sigh, I make my way to the door. My steps are as quiet as possible.

Waking Griffin up right now would mean talking to him about what happened last night. He would want to confront it, but all I want to do is run away from it.

Things between us don't need to get complicated with the kiss. After all, it was just a kiss. I just need to avoid him for the rest of the retreat.

Once we return to the city and hide away in his firm with dozens of people around, it will be easy to pretend that I don't want him.

Until then, avoidance is the only way to go.

My gaze lingers as Griffin sighs. His chest rises and falls as I grab the doorknob. Hesitation runs through me.

Maybe I should stick around to talk to him. We could try to figure out where to go from here.

Griffin said that he was tired of fighting, and I am, too. I don't want to hold onto the anger anymore.

Although, I don't know if it's possible to let twenty years of hatred go that easily. I certainly don't have the capacity to deal with it right now.

I better get out of here before he wakes up.

For just a moment longer, I take in the stunning sight of Griffin Blake before heading out the door.

All I want to do is forget that last night ever happened.