Page 16 of Just One: Box Set

Chapter Five

J ackie’s entire body had felt warm, cocooned in a softness she really didn’t want to move from.

When she forced her eyes open, she immediately shut them as the sunlight burned through with a painful ray of yellow.

Her head pounded like a thousand antelope were thundering through the Grand Canyon, and she couldn’t stop the stampede.

Slowly, she peeled her eyelids back open, blinking as her vision adjusted to the light.

Instantly, she knew she wasn’t in her room.

Using her elbows for leverage, she propped herself up and scanned the unfamiliar space.

It looked like a replica of her hotel room, but something was off.

Her dress was precariously draped over a lamp, and a men's shirt lay crumpled on the floor beside it.

The sound of the shower running made her suck in a sharp breath, freezing in place.

"Fuck," she thought. She had gone home with someone the previous night and didn’t have a clue who it was. Leaning forward, she pressed her palms over her eyes, trying to piece together the last twelve hours, but her mind came up empty.

“Shit,” she grumbled into the empty room.

She vaguely remembered running into someone at the hotel bar and agreeing to a few drinks.

Flashes of walking down Fremont Street with him flickered across her memory—then a more vivid recollection surfaced, of being thoroughly fucked in that very bed.

But the identity of her partner was a shallow memory she couldn’t grasp.

The alcohol must have really hit her hard.

As wild as she was, this was something she’d never usually do.

Whoever it was had clearly turned her on, but why couldn’t she remember a thing?

Throwing the sheet back, she froze. An empty tequila bottle lay on the bedside table, two shot glasses tipped over beside it.

Holy shit.

Had she really drunk the whole thing? She needed her phone. Harley would know what was going on—at least, Jackie hoped so. Surely she’d called her best friend at some point during the night. Then again, Harley had just gotten married.

Swinging her feet to the floor, her breath caught in her throat. There, on her left hand, was a clear symbol of what she’d done. It wasn’t a good omen. A shiny new gold band circled her left ring finger, glinting in the morning light that peeked through the hotel curtains.

Her heart raced, threatening to burst from her chest. Whose room was she in?

Worse, whose bed was she naked in? Groaning, she covered her face with her hands.

Sparks of recognition teased the edges of her memory—she could almost see the man in question—but everything was muddled.

Dropping her hands, she stared at the unfamiliar ring on her finger.

Maybe this was a prank, a joke her friends were playing.

It had to be. There was no way she’d done something this stupid.

“What the fuck?” she whispered, spinning the gold ring around her finger. Panic began creeping in as she tried to make sense of what was happening. If this was real, she was completely screwed.

The sound of the shower cutting off made her snap her attention to the bathroom door. Whoever was about to step out was likely wearing a matching gold band. Jackie couldn’t believe this. She had gotten so drunk that she’d married a complete stranger.

Rubbing at her temples, she winced from the constant pounding in her head.

This was a mess, an epic fucking mess. Harley was going to kill her, and Jackie would probably let her.

Part of her wanted to get up and yank the bathroom door open, to see who was on the other side—but she wasn’t brave enough to face her mistake just yet.

Instead, she spotted her phone on the floor and grabbed it. The battery was nearly dead, but she prayed it would last long enough to help her figure things out.

“Jackie, where are you? You left the reception without saying goodbye, and you weren’t answering my calls. I wanted to say goodbye before Archer and I leave this morning,” Harley’s concerned voice filled the line. Jackie pressed her fingertips against her temple.

“Harley, do…” she began, but the sound of the bathroom door opening made her spin around. The words died on her lips. “Harley, I need to call you back.”

“Jacki—” Harley’s voice was cut off as Jackie disconnected the call and let the phone tumble from her grasp.

She stared at the nearly naked man standing in front of her, losing the ability to speak.

He was, for lack of better words, fucking gorgeous .

She blinked, trying to shake the shock of seeing this perfectly sculpted man smirk at her.

Pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, she winced at the pain.

No, this was no dream.

“I’m completely fucked,” she whispered into the room. “This can’t be happening. Please tell me this is a nightmare and not real.”

“Sorry, this is as real as it gets, baby,” he replied, his smirk widening. “Or should I call you… Wifey ?”