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I’M NOT SURE WHAT WOKE me. It was early, the gray light of pre-dawn just beginning to trickle through the blinds. I frowned. This wasn’t my bed.
I turned my head to find someone else lying next to me. Nope, definitely not my bed. I struggled to remember what had happened, but it was foggy. I hadn’t had that much to drink, had I?
I started counting. There was the wine at the pub. Two glasses. No, wait, three. Wine had a tendency to go straight to my head. Then vague memories of a walk, making out, lots of kissing. A living room. More wine....
Tom. I was at Tom’s house. I blushed as things came back, vivid images of what Tom and I had been up to. Had I really done that with a jar of honey?
I closed my eyes, wishing it all away. I opened them. Nope. Still in Tom’s bed with Tom sleeping next to me, his arm wrapped around my middle.
I struggled to feel guilty, but I didn’t. I was a little sore in places that hadn’t gotten exercised in a good long while, but other than that, I felt amazing. I glanced at Tom again and reminded myself not to get carried away. Just because we’d slept together didn’t mean we were an item or anything. I couldn’t imagine a guy like him being interested in a woman my age. Not long-term anyway. It was... impossible. There was no use pretending otherwise.
A glance at my watch told me if I didn’t move my behind, I was going to be late for my photography class. I needed to get home, take a shower, and collect my camera equipment. Seeing Owen no longer held any appeal, but the class was important. This was my future we were talking about, and while the temptation to stay in bed with Tom was strong, reality won out.
Quiet as a mouse, I lifted up his arm and slipped out of bed. Snatching my clothes off the floor, I ducked out of his room and into the hallway, where I got dressed as quickly as I could. I was in dire need of the loo, but I didn’t want to wake him, so I scribbled a quick note thanking him for dinner and telling him I had an appointment. I couldn’t help adding an X after my name, even if it was a bit silly.
I grabbed my handbag from the middle of the living room floor and let myself out his front door, wincing at the slight squeak of hinges. I took the steps to the ground floor two at a time and hurried out onto the street. I turned left toward the nearest Tube station, but a glance at my watch told me it was so early the Tube wasn’t even running yet. The first train to Guildford from Waterloo Station was at five. If I grabbed a cab, I could just make it.
The memory of Tom’s face above mine popped into my head. Somehow I was going to have to forget about him and how he made me feel. And I definitely couldn’t allow myself to imagine a future together.