Chapter 7 #2
“Or what, tough guy?” The man who is holding onto me spits as he releases my hips, only to sling an arm around my shoulders. I stumble slightly and squint, trying to get my eyes to focus on what’s happening around me.
The stranger holding me takes a couple quick steps backwards, causing me to sway at the loss of contact. A new pair of arms instantly wind around me, and I brace a hand on a firm chest as I try to steady myself the best that I can.
“What the fuck, man?” I hear behind me, but I’m already being led through the crowd, my dance partner left on the dancefloor.
I’m tripping over my own two feet as I notice a large hand wrapped around mine, keeping me close to a white dress shirt covered back as he creates a path towards the front door.
As I step into the cool night air and take a deep breath, it feels like I was underwater, and now I’m finally breaking the surface. I slip my hand out of the mans before me, bracing it on the brick wall beside me.
I place a hand on my chest and close my eyes, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth as I feel a wave of nausea overwhelm me.
“Here,” that familiar voice says as he gently rests one hand on my back and the other grips my free wrist. “Come sit down.”
He tries to lead me over to the curb, but the bile makes its way up my throat. I plaster a hand over my mouth and find my way to the side of the building just before I empty the contents of my stomach.
My eyes are burning as I bend over, bracing myself against the wall as more bile tries to fight its way out. I feel someone rub soothing circles on my back and pull my hair away from my face.
“Oh, god,” I groan, one hand on my stomach as I attempt to stand upright. My vision is still blurry from the alcohol, and I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to make myself focus. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” the man says, keeping a hand on my arm as I continue to sway on the spot. “Can I help you home? I can get you a cab.”
Before I can respond, I fold over and throw up again, and he’s instantly there to catch me before I collapse to the ground. The last thing I remember before I black out is the man picking me up bridal style, and the smell of sandalwood and sage.
The sunlight streaming through my bedroom window wakes me out of my slumber, and the pounding headache that immediately ensues causes me to grab my pillow and cover my face, effectively blocking out the light.
I roll over, a loud groan escaping me as I do so. I blindly reach for my nightstand and shoot up as I hear a pill bottle hitting the floor. Squinting, I notice a bottle of Advil on the floor, which was previously next to a glass of water, neither of which I remember grabbing last night.
What did happen last night?
Scooting to the edge of the bed, I lay on my stomach and reach for the bottle before slowly pushing myself up to a sitting position. I can feel my heartbeat in my forehead as my body screams at me.
I take two Advil and down the glass of water before bracing my feet on the carpet. Once I stand, I look down to see that I’m still in my black dress from the funeral. Well, I think to myself as I wander into my closet for a change of clothes, at least I came home by myself.
Stripping out of the dress, I pull a random tank off its hanger before opening the dresser to grab a pair of sweatpants. Walking back into my room, I grab a hair tie off the nightstand and flip my hair down, wrapping my knotted blonde locks in a messy bun atop my head.
I eventually make my way out to the living room, still trying to remember what the hell had happened the night before. The apartment is quiet, so Claire must still be at Blue’s, and since I don’t see Winston anywhere, she must have come and grabbed him, too.
Heading into the kitchen, I pull open the door to the fridge and grab a bottle of water, twisting the cap off and resting my back against the cool door. Just as I bring the water to my mouth, I finally notice something sitting on the island.
My car and house keys, my cell phone, a business card, and a handwritten note.
Rooftop Mystery Girl,
I hope you aren’t too mad when you read this letter. I found you at the bar and knew you were too drunk to get home on your own. I got your address from a friend of yours, someone named Blue’s Clues in your contacts (you’ll have to tell me about that later).
Before you panic, don’t worry: nothing happened between us.
I hope you found the Advil and water on your nightstand. I found your phone charger and plugged that in for you—figured you’d need it this morning.
I hate that I still don’t know your name. Seems like fate is playing some kind of cruel trick on me. In the meantime, I guess you can know mine.
My number is on my card. I hope to hear from you.
Levi
I can’t stop the small smile that tugs at my lips as I set the letter back on the countertop. Biting my lip, I glance between my phone and the business card. Reaching for the thick card stock, my eyes widen as I read the name there.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, falling back against the counter. I stare at the card as if the words will change the longer that I look at it.
Wright Enterprises is in the same building as Davis Matchmaking, and has been long before I started working for Kirstin.
It’s been five years, almost six now, since I first met him on the rooftop. How is it possible that, in all that time, I hadn’t once run into him?
My illuminated phone on the island distracts me from the card. I shake my head, a small laugh escaping me as I set it down.
I guess fate knows that timing is everything.