Michael Wolston was as cold as ice. He was the son of a multi billionaire and retired Victoria secret model. He could have everything he ever wanted by the snap of his fingers. He was addicted to two things, cigarettes and hockey. He was the typical...
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Remember when I said life was perfect?
Well I lied because life is shit when you wake up in the same bed with the boy your kind of love interest hates.
Did I mention I slept in my bra and underwear and no clothing?
Yeah we definitely did something that I solely regret.
"Fuck" I shouted. I looked around the room for my clothes and I saw it laying on the chair besides the desk and I I'm ran out of the bed to get change.
"Fucking hell" I shouted even louder. Tears streaming down my face continuously not daring to stop and I didn't bother to wipe it away.
"Jessica what happened?" Heath's somewhat sleepy voice echoed through the room but I was so damn focused on how the hell I was going to tell Michael to even speak to Heath.
"Jessica talk to me" Heath demanded.
"I don't know Heath we slept together because I was clearly almost naked and you are shirtless only in boxers"
I shouted frustrated, tears still streaming.
"Fuck this" I said before walking out of the house. I was out of the door when I suddenly had a whole wave of emotions wash over me.
I was barely off the porch when I fell down crying on the steps. Michael is going to hate me and he'd never want to date me anymore. I basically just fucking ruined my life.
God why did I come to this party?
I haven't even checked my messages last night and I when I switched it on I could see all the unread messages pop up on my screen.
Bad bitch bella: Where are you? Are you going with someone else home? Jessica Van Der Woodsen answer your fucking phone.
Roni~Woni: OMG Jess where tf are you??? I totally got laid tonight (I so did not) Call us when you ready to go.
Michael: Jessica when are you coming home? I left work early so you can come home tonight. Isabella says she can't get a hold of you is everything alright? Do I need to pick you up or something?
*Missed call* *Missed call* *Missed call*
I was so screwed.
Guilt started washing over me again and I began to cry even harder. I called a cab to pick me up because I didn't want to to disturb the girls from their sleep especially if they going to have a hang over.
The cab didn't take long and thank fuck he wasn't the type that'll question why the fuck a twenty year old girl is crying in the damn morning.
I paid him and decided to plan what I'd say to Michael on my way to the door.
I didn't even get time to knock before it was being swung open by him. He looked worries but relieved that I was home but I knew he'd immediately lose all that emotion once I tell him.
