Baby on Board

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I can't remember the last time I woke up next to a man, especially one that I wasn't in a relationship with. I have a feeling that it was back in my early twenties, although I may be wrong. With my head so muddled by the cloud of alcohol from the wedding last night, I consider myself fortunate that I know who I am this morning. The man next to me, however, is a different matter. 

It could be one of two men, neither or whom I particularly want to wake up next to on any given day but especially today. 

Hugo Cézanne was the first name that popped into my head. My eldest sister's best friend since childhood was a world renowned male model who could bed anyone. In fact, I think he probably has bedded most of them. Besides the point, I know, but in an ideal world, I'd rather not be just another notch on Hugo's belt; that's if he still has a belt to notch. 

It's no secret that I've always found Hugo attractive. You'd have to be certifiable crazy not to find the six foot one, blond hair, blue eyed Frenchman attractive but the insecurity of being with Hugo would send me insane. With so many women fawning all over him, any relationship you'd have with him would explode within hours and I don't have the emotional capacity to deal with that at the moment. 

Putting Hugo aside, I contemplate the next man that could be lying next to me. Isaac Fletcher. What can I say about Isaac? He too is over six feet tall, although he's got an inch or two on Hugo, and his blond hair and blue eyes remind me of some sort of Norse God thanks to his rugged features. 

Since I met Isaac, I feel like a salmon that has been swimming upstream in the way that I've been fighting the temptation to give in to him. See, just like Hugo, having any sort of relationship with Isaac would send me insane. In part, it may be due to the fact that women seem to buzz around him like bees to honey, but also because I have this niggling feeling that if any man was ever going to hurt me, it would be Isaac. 

He's the type that would use every weapon in his arsenal in order to get me to fall head over heels for him, build up this hope in me that he could be the one that makes all my dreams come true only to pull the rug from under my feet. I thought my last boyfriend was a Dementor, but Isaac Fletcher is a soul sucker to rival any Dementor's Kiss. 

Urgh, now is not the time to be thinking in Harry Potter terms. 

Awkwardly, I try to escape the strong hold of the arm that was draped across my waist and held me against the body behind me, but whenever I shifted even the slightest, the man's grip on me tightened. It was like quicksand where the more you struggled, the more screwed you were. I think, given my current predicament, I've been screwed enough already that now really wasn't the time to find myself in an inescapable situation. 

"Look," I say, my irritation seeping into my words. Picking up the heavy arm, I attempted to throw it back towards the owner but that proved futile because the stubborn arse behind me kept placing it back where it was not wanted. "Will you please get away from me?"