13. Thea
THEA
I have no idea what was in that martini, but the euphoria blazing through me is second to none. I don’t think I could stop smiling if I tried. I want to stay in this forever.
We arrive at Wick’s place. It’s a townhome in a sketchy neighborhood. The paint on its exterior is chipping, several tiles on the roof are missing, and gutters are hanging loose. A rusty chain-link fence lines the property. Wick parks us in a driveway riddled with tiny cracks.
“Home sweet home,” he growls.
Despite our surroundings, I get out of the car without even looking. I just need this man—any man—inside me right now. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hot and bothered. I’m surprised I didn’t leave a puddle on the passenger seat in Wick’s car.
I follow him up to his front door, squeezing his ass on the way. He’s got a smart lock on his house, and he puts in a code. One-two-nine-zero-two.
Must be someone’s birthday. The twenty-ninth of January, 2002. Or 1902, I suppose. Maybe Wick has a great-great-grandpa born on that day.
I couldn’t actually give a fuck. I’m just so unbelievably horny that I’m homing in on Wick’s hands as they open the door to the building where he will fuck me until my brains are leaking out of my ears.
Wick opens the door and flops down onto a worn-out black sofa. He beckons me to join him. “Get in, gorgeous. The water’s fine.”
I practically jump on top of him and continue making out with him. He grabs my right boob, thumbing the nipple through my bra. I grope his cock through his pants.
I’m about to breathe out the word “bedroom” in his ear when—
A flash of Aus Waverly zips through my mind.
No. Not now.
He’s looking at me, disappointed in me.
Well, Aus, if you’d been around, I wouldn’t have had to drink so much, wouldn’t have gone home with—
Wait.
I drank a lot.
Two drinks is usually my limit. I had three, and that martini was super strong.
I… I shouldn’t be doing this.
I’m still insatiably horny, but I shouldn’t be sleeping with a man I don’t even know when my mind is so clouded.
I break my lips from Wick’s.
“Everything okay, pretty thing?” he asks.
“First of all, my name’s Thea,” I say. “I appreciate the compliments, but you haven’t addressed me by my name since we met.” I sigh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I just… I don’t think I should be doing this.”
Wick cocks his head. “Why?”
“I… I had a lot to drink, I guess. I don’t think my judgment is great right now. I don’t want to hook up with a guy when I’m not in the right mind. I’ll get too in my own head about it. It won’t be any fun for you, either.”
He narrows his eyes. “I assure you it will be.”
“Well, either way. I’m sorry, but I’m not comfortable sleeping with you tonight. I don’t think it’s the right move, for me or for you.”
Wick starts to roll his eyes but then stops. He sighs. “All right. I won’t say I’m thrilled, but it’s fine.” He checks his watch. “It’s getting pretty late. You can crash here if you want tonight.”
“I can just get an Uber.” I grab my phone out of my purse, try to turn it on. “Fuck. Battery’s dead. Do you have a charger?”
“Yeah, let me get one.” He gets up off the couch and starts riffling through a drawer in a nearby side table.
My phone is old, though. When its battery dies, it takes a solid half hour of charging before I can even turn it on.
I should have replaced it a year ago, but I never got around to it.
“Tell you what. If the offer is still good, I’ll hang here until my phone has got some battery, and then I’ll head home. ”
Wick nods, handing me a charging cord. “Cool. If you’d like, you can hang in my bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“I don’t want to kick you out of your own bed.”
“Please.” He gestures toward his bedroom. “Once you’re gone, I’ll go back in. But to be honest, I don’t really want to hang out in the same room as you if we’re not hooking up.”
Hmm. Hardly a white knight.
As I come more to my senses, I’m realizing that Wick’s aura is a little…off. I’m not saying he’s a serial killer or anything, but I don’t know him at all. He could be an axe murderer. “Okay. Fair enough. Maybe we could hang out some other time.”
He offers a half smile. “Sure thing, gor— I mean, Thea.”
“Thank you.” I give him a kiss on the cheek. “Sorry for spoiling your evening.”
“Whatever.” He flops onto the couch, turns on the TV. “Night.”
“Good night, Wick.” I walk into his bedroom, strip off my dress, slip into one of the T-shirts Wick offered, and collapse onto the bed, quickly plugging my phone into a power strip under the nightstand.
My gaze falls on an old Nintendo controller. I pick it up, take in the bulbous shape of the handgrips.
I’m still horny.
God, I wish I had my vibrator.
A splitting headache in tandem with the sun streaming through the curtainless window wakes me up.
I rub at my temples, look around.
Where am I?
I swallow. My throat is dry.
I went to a new place last night. The Jade Sanctum. Right. I was on a date. I met the owner. He showed me around, charmed the hell out of me. Date didn’t show. And I went home with—
Oh, damn it all.
I went home with the bartender of the West section. Wick something.
I was going to charge my phone for twenty minutes and then go home.
And then I found that Nintendo controller, and I—
Shit. I must have passed out.
What the hell got into me?
I don’t find Wick attractive at all. The lip piercing, black fingernails? Not for me.
But with a few drinks in me I found him irresistible.
Totally weird.
The walls in Wick’s bedroom are painted black. Several posters for punk-rock bands hang haphazardly, their edges ripped and curling in slightly. Dirty socks and briefs litter the floor. Glad I couldn’t see this last night.
What time is it? It’s rare that I’m up after sunrise, what with—
Fuck. My job!
My phone is plugged into a power strip at the side of the bed. I quickly grab it. It’s fully charged, thank God.
And it’s five a.m.
Oh, no.
I’m supposed to be in my makeup chair right now. One hour until the first ChicagO2 broadcast of the day.
Shit shit shit fuck shit…
I jump out of bed, peel off Wick’s T-shirt, and put on my gingham dress. I can’t wear this on the news, but I keep a spare outfit at the station in my dressing room. I can change once I get there. If I get there on time.
I still have my makeup on from last night, so maybe my makeup girl can just clean it up to save some time. That plus a few yanks of a brush through my hair might make me presentable.
I’m in my dress, back zipper be damned. I just need to find my shoes…
Where the hell are they?
I clap my hand against my mouth.
For fuck’s sake.
I ditched my shoes when my heel got caught in that sewer grate on the way to Wick’s car.
What the hell was I thinking? Those were five-hundred-dollar Louboutins.
Okay. I have to think. I call an Uber to pick me up. I pay extra to bump the line. Great. Frank will be here in five minutes.
That gives me three hundred seconds to figure out how I’m covering my feet.
I don’t keep a spare pair of shoes in the news station, which until now never seemed like an oversight.
I hobble into Wick’s living room. He’s asleep on the couch in a pair of boxers.
His living-room floor is strewn with dirty tissues, and I don’t think it’s because of a sinus infection.
I really don’t want to wake him. I’m pretty sure I ended up rejecting him last night, and I don’t need to relive any awkwardness. I wasn’t even supposed to spend the night anyway.
A few pairs of shoes clutter Wick’s entryway, but they’re all way too big for me. He must have size-thirteen feet.
But then—God bless us, everyone—I spot a smaller pair of silver tennis shoes in the corner. They’re too small to be Wick’s. Maybe they belonged to an old girlfriend or something. Her loss is my gain. I slip into them. Perfect fit.
I’m looking around for a piece of paper to leave a note to Wick about the shoes and that I’ll drop them off once I’m done with work, when my phone buzzes. My Uber is here.
I really have no time to lose, so I’ll just have to hope Wick doesn’t miss the shoes. They’re clearly not his, so I’m not too worried.
I run out the front door and hurl myself into the car. “You’re Frank? For Thea, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the driver replies.
“Great. I’m running late. There’s a handsome tip in it for you if you get me there as fast as humanly possible.”
“Heard.” The car’s tires screech as Frank peels out from the curb.
It’s a short drive to the news station. One nice thing about work starting so early is that I rarely have to deal with rush-hour traffic. Should have taken fifteen minutes, but Frank whittled it down to eleven. I’ll make sure to send him a hundred-dollar tip once I have a moment to breathe.
I careen into the news station. Mags, my makeup girl, widens her eyes. “Thea! Where the hell have you been?”
“Long story. So sorry I’m late. But I’m here now. Can you get me ready in time?”
She eyes my dress. “You’re not going to go on in that, are you?”
I roll my eyes. “Obviously not. I keep a spare outfit in the office.”
Mags nods. “Okay. Let’s get you into that and then I’ll touch up your makeup. With a little luck, we’ll just make it.”
“Thank you, Mags. And I promise you this will never happen again.”
Mags helps me out of the dress and I slip on my emergency outfit—a smart dark-purple pants suit with a cream blouse and a mint-green silk scarf. I’ll keep the silver tennis shoes on, as the camera will only capture me from the waist up. Not a huge deal.
Mags then throws me in the makeup chair and fixes my hair and face up in record time. I have about thirty seconds to spare before she pushes me in front of the cameras for the weather report.
I take a deep breath in, do everything in my remaining twenty-five seconds to center myself.
I made it by the skin of my teeth. My career isn’t in jeopardy. I didn’t miss the broadcast.
But it could have been worse. If I’d slept even ten minutes longer, I would have been royally fucked.
All because I drank too much and went home with a strange man last night.
I can’t allow that to happen again.
As the heat of the studio lights warms my face, one thought rises to the top of my self-soothing.
My days at the Jade Sanctum are officially over.