The Strings Attached

Chapter 17 - Loni

Loni

An elephant has never actually sat on top of my head. But it feels like an elephant is sitting on my fucking head. 

My eyeballs move behind my lids that refuse to open. The act makes my stomach tighten. I just need to lay on my bathroom floor and puke out this hangover.

I actually have no idea how I got home last night—

Wait...

My eyelids rip open. The bright sunlight cascading through the window burns through my corneas and I let out a groan, rubbing the heel of my palms against them. Once the pain subsides, I open them extremely slowly.

Where the fuck am I?

I'm laying in an unfamiliar bed. The layout is the same as my apartment. The ceiling fan is the exact same and the wall across from the bed is the same shade of light blue as mine. But this isn't my furniture. That isn't my desk. Those clothes on the floor are not mine.

Oh shit, did I walk into someone else's apartment?

My legs kick, forcing the stranger's blanket off of my body.

"Morning."

My head snaps around to the bathroom door. Jace is standing there wearing nothing but a towel.

Oh, fuck no.

Horrifying thoughts circle around in my brain. What the hell did I do last night? What did we do last night?

I throw my body out of bed. But my legs cramp up and my head spins. I fall forward and my face slams against the hardwood floor.

"Loni!"

Before Jace can even get close to me, I jump up. One hand is on my nose and the other one is out in front of me. "Stay right there."

"You just fucking face planted on my floor."

"I don't care. You keep your naked wet body right there." Through the throbbing pain in my nose, I can't help but steal a quick glance at his rippling abs. That makes something else throb.

I need to get the hell out of here.

Without saying another word to him, I leave his room. Walking through his living room, I don't miss the sight of a guy laying on his couch with a naked girl draped over him. Gag me.

Once I'm outside, I don't stop. I run barefoot through the parking lot, trying to make sense of where I am on the property. And trying to get as far away from naked Jace as possible. But it's like every time I blink his perfectly carved torso is all I can see.

My feet burn against the warm pavement. My legs feel like they've been put in a meat grinder. And don't get me started on my head. I haven't gotten this wasted in months. It doesn't make things better that Jace ran me ragged at practice. My body is betraying me.

I finally find my building after about ten minutes of trudging through the property. I have no idea what the time is. My phone is dead.

Bethany is standing at the sink washing dishes, probably from her breakfast this morning.

"Where have you been?" she asks with a sly smirk. She turns off the sink and wipes her hands on the dish towel before crossing them over her front and eyeing me.

"I crashed at Hadley's," I say, locking the door behind me.

"You expect me to believe that? You weren't out with one of the men you met on that app of yours?"

Obviously I told Bethany about my plan. The way she looks at me with those big innocent brown eyes makes it impossible for me to keep things from her. And to lie to her. But right now, without having all the facts of the events that happened last night, it's not exactly lying.

"I was with Hadley last night at her Kappa Zeta date thing." I flop down on the couch, finally taking some much-needed pressure off my legs and my head finally stops spinning.

"Okay. I'll believe you for now. Maybe when you aren't so hungover I'll get the truth."

I force out a laugh. But the simple task makes my chest ache.

"I forgot to ask," she sits on the couch next to me. "How did your date go on Friday?"

"It wasn't an actual date," I remind her.

She fluffs her hand. "Right, sorry. How was the sex from Friday."

This time I actually laugh. Talking about sex with Bethany is an awkward subject. Mainly because she's never done the deed. Nor has she ever had a boyfriend. She's like this innocent little girl that I want to protect from the harshness of reality. The ickiness of sex. But she insists to know every detail of my sex life. So I oblige.

"The sex... didn't happen."

"What do you mean? That's the whole point of operation sex fest."

I raise my brows and flap my lips. "You gave it a name?"

"Duh. Because saying "that's the whole point of just having a bunch of one-night stands with random men because you're scared of getting your heart broken" isn't as much fun."

Ouch. When she puts it like that, it really makes me sound pathetic. Yes, I'm obviously scared of getting hurt again. But I'm just looking for some no strings attached sex right now. Is that such a crime?

"So, what happened. Why no sex?"

"Um," I pause, pondering over the events of that night. If I tell her about Jace then I have to tell her everything about Jace. And that is not a conversation I want to have. I never want to think about Jace Maxwell ever again or the feeling that sparks between my legs anytime I imagine his perfectly sculpted body. "He was just giving off little dick energy."

Bethany's face scrunches with disgust. "Gross. We only accept men with nice equipment for operation sex fest."

"What do you know about men with "nice equipment"," I laugh, finally sitting up.

Her cheeks flush. "I hear things." She stands up and walks back into the kitchen. "Hey, don't you have to leave soon for your weekly team meeting?"

"What time is it?"

She pulls out her phone. "Eleven-Thirty."

"Fuck." I scramble off the couch and throw myself into the fastest, coldest shower ever. Trying to shake my body of this hangover. Also trying to free my mind of the taunting, though rather sexy, images of Jace.