Something hard hit my head last night, putting me into such a deep sleep, I almost forget that I have a test at eight in the morning. A big one. One that the professor won't curve. And I'm not prepared.
As though called upon by the testing gods, my eyes shoot open, and the brightness from a large window to my right nearly blinds me. I have to blink to adjust my eyes to the light, and I'm almost immediately met with the strange scent combination of roses and fabric softener. My head is heavy as I take in the surroundings of the room, but nothing looks familiar. The relevance of the test slips from my mind as I blink at the unfamiliar space.
Did I drink last night? No, surely I didn't—
Oh shit.
No, no, no, no, no. This isn't my room.
My normally stable heart picks up its pace as I glance around the large bedroom. Is this some fancy hotel? The ceilings are higher than any I've ever seen, the walls are painted a shade of cold gray, and the only light is streaming in from the window. I squint my eyes at the mounted candelabras spaced equally two-thirds up each wall, at each tall white candle's wick that is unlit. Another sweep around the room, and I spot a small round table and two chairs, but no vase of flowers to source the putrid smell of roses.
Confused, I slide back into the headboard of the largest bed I've ever been in and take in the ornate covers of the thick duvet. Soft as silk, but thick. I'm not a bed expert or anything, but I know this is better quality than my twin bed duvet whose stuffing curdles when I wash it. A lot better. Surely this is a hotel. But why am I here?
Why does my head hurt so much, as though I drank 'til I reached my limit the night before? The last thing I remember...
The book!
My hands frantically toss the blanket around, hoping the red leather book will resurface somewhere, but instead of the book, something else appears.
Shit!
I quickly cover the sleeping blonde woman before I can register her naked body curving against the soft mattress.
Gah, too late. It's not leaving my memory anytime soon.
My head goes hot, my ears go fuzzy.
What the hell is going on?!
Gulping, I roll off the unoccupied side of the bed, and cold air rushes over me. My jaw stiffens. There's no way in hell I, too, am not wearing any clothing, is there?
I stand and my skin prickles, but I dare not look down.
I am one hundred percent naked.
And my clothing...
I look around everywhere, eyes darting to the (one, two, three, four, five...) six corners of the room. A six-cornered room?
Dumbfounded, I spot a pile of dark clothing tossed against a burgundy dresser. Next to it is a large pile of yellow; maybe some kind of tent? I can't remember for the life of me what I was wearing yesterday, but I'm sure they aren't my clothes.
I pick the garments up. The quality is obvious—mine and Liv's dad played pro golf and wore similar Italian fabrics. So these are definitely not mine.
I shake the thought from my head, desperate to cover myself. I tug the black slacks over my muscled legs, pull on a white button-up shirt, and tiptoe to the large glass double doors at the far end of the room, careful not to wake the stranger still slumbering in the foreign bed.
When I push the doors open, a small man with a huge curly mustache and a combover startles, then gives me a once-over. He's wearing one of those classic butler outfits. Did I somehow get dragged into a rich girl's house? Or is this the Davenport Hotel? I always heard it was extravagant but this is next level. This has to be a prank. I'll keep an eye out for cameras.
YOU ARE READING
I Became the Duke in a Cringey Romance Novel
Fantasy"Love has become a wacky game, but I won't let it slip through my fingers!" Meet David Young, your average college student with a massive crush. But when it comes to romance, he's as clueless as a penguin in a desert. So, in a stroke of genius (or m...
