A Little Unknown

Chapter 3

Fucking cheery, LA sunlight. That's the thing about Portland, it's made for mornings after shameful evenings. It's dark, grey mornings don't blind you with its stupid light.

Holy shit, the room is still spinning and my head feels like someone was trying to over-inflate a basketball. And my mouth, ugh, did I eat a packet of cotton balls last night? Save me.

Oh no, you gotta be fucking kidding me. I completely forgot. There is a man lying next to me. I know what you are thinking, and dear reader, I fucking wish that were true. But alas, it is not my boss. This is some dude I picked up at the bar for the night. He kind of looks like he belongs in a biker gang. But, he was a pretty good plough last night so no harm done.

Only problem, he clearly did not understand the arrangement. He is supposed to leave after fucking not cuddle up with my pillows. Ew, I really need to change my sheets. Okay, I am going to take a shower and hopefully he leaves while I'm in there.

I roll my tired, hungover ass out of my dirty bed and drown it in my shower's hot water. I emerge from the steamy room feeling fresh and rejuvenated. Which quickly sours when I see my fling still snoring in my bed. His face in my pillows and his bare, toned ass on display.

"Alright, rise and shine," I say to him as I slap his ass and leave a red imprint on his hairy cheek. "Mama's gotta get to work," I say to him and toss him his jeans.

He grumbles, and slowly sits up--his face grimacing from the brightness.

Oh holy fuck, he's hotter than I remember. What is the opposite of beer goggles? Champagne magnifying glass? Damn.

He is slim with dark brown hair graying at his temples, dark green eyes, and stubble along his jawline. He is smiling at me and I know what he is thinking.

"Nope, you gotta go," I say to him with a chuckle as he reaches for my towel.

"Alright," he says. His voice has a thick, Texas accent. "Can, I have your number?" He asks as I drop my towel and begin to dress in front of him. His eyes rake down my naked body as I step into my floral romper, he is clearly surprised by my brazen nakedness. Which is surprising because he clearly saw all of me last night. Hell, half the bar saw most of me last night since that dress was so damn short.

I slip my feet into a pair of leather sandals and turn to him to help me zip my romper up.

"Sure, Tex," I reply and write my number on a piece of  junk mail scattered across my bedside table.

"My name is Kyle," He says with a grin as he folds the paper into the breast pocket of his shirt. "Do you need a ride to work?" He asks and it hits me, Fuck I rode home with him last night on the back of his motorcycle and my fucking shitty car is still at the bar. How the fuck did Maya get home?

"That would be great, but give me a second," I say to him and grab my bag then rush into Maya's room to make sure she made it home safe. I burst into her bedroom and find her passed out naked with a guy. I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank fuck she isn't dead. I can't afford rent here without that bitch. And I kind of like her. I close her door and follow Kyle out to his motorcycle.

Kyle asks me where I am going and I tell him. He replies with a chuckle, "that's convenient, I live across the street. How long have you been working for Jerry?" He asks and takes my bag from my shoulder.

Of course they know each other. All those hot fuckers know each other.

"How do you know him? I ask, my eyes squinting as if I am accusing him of something.

He chuckles and motions for me to get on the bike. He hands me his spare helmet and helps me clip it under my chin. "Jerry and I go way back."

"Oh great," I reply and he chuckles. He kicks the bike's engine over and it begins to rumble. He pats me on my thigh then rolls off down my driveway.