The Two-Night One-Night Stand (6 page)

I WAKE UP to my phone buzzing on the night table and a hot guy in my bed. A sleepy smile stretches into place as the memories of last night come rushing back to me. I reach over and read the incoming text with one eye open.

Jayne:
What happened? My brother said he never saw you. Did you leave early?

Both eyes fly open and I sit up in bed, causing the man next to me to stir.

Me:
What are you talking about?

Jayne:
I talked to Nick and he said you never showed.

She talked to Nick and he never showed? I hold on tight to my phone and slowly turn to get a good look at the guy beside me. If Nick never showed… then… who the fuck is this?

Images of my Halloween sex fest flash before me.
Halloween
. My superstitious mind takes off running. Had I fucked a ghost last night? Am I about to become a Halloween urban legend? An erotic ghost story that horny Girl Scouts tell around a campfire? My hand shakes as I slowly reach out, half expecting my hand to slide through him. Solid.

He stirs again. Gulp. He’s real. Scenario two, he’s a murderer. A psycho serial killer out to slaughter scantily dressed nurses? I jump up from my bed, dash naked across the room, and lock myself in the bathroom with my phone. I grab the robe from the back of my door and once it’s on and tied tight, I frantically dial Jayne’s number.

“Hello?” she answers after two rings. “What happened to you last night?”

“Jayne, when did you talk to your brother? Last night or this morning?” I whisper into the phone. Maybe they had spoken before we actually met up. I cross my fingers and wait for her answer.

“This morning, like ten minutes ago. He said he showed up last night and looked for you but you weren’t there.”

“No, no, no. Is there a chance you misunderstood?” Of course there isn’t. Why am I even asking?

“Misunderstood what? What’s going on, Holly?”

“I went home with someone last night.”

“With who?”

“A guy dressed up as a doctor. Someone who claimed to be your brother.”

“You had a one-night stand?” Jayne laughs and I cringe at her words. “I didn’t have you pegged as that kind of girl. Looks like my brother missed out.”

“This isn’t funny, Jayne. There’s an imposter, some guy whose name I don’t even know, sleeping in my bed right now. What if he’s a serial killer?”

“He’s not a serial killer. If he was, you’d be dead by now. Well, probably.” She snickers.

“Still not funny, Jayne. None of this is funny.”

“Were you drunk?”

Such a reasonable question to ask and right about now I am wishing that answer is yes. “No, I wasn’t drunk. I mean, I drank, but it was over the course of a few hours and we even ate, so unfortunately I can’t really blame the alcohol.”

“You ate? So you had like an actual date with this guy? Where did you go?”

“Jayne, I can’t exactly go into all the details, I have a bit of a situation going on right now.”

“Okay, but you have to call me the second he leaves and tell me everything.”

“Forget details, Jayne. If you don’t hear from me in ten minutes, call the police.”

“Stop. You’re fine. He doesn’t want to kill you. Just tell me real quick, was it good?”

“What? Was what good?”

“The sex. The guy had to be something special if you brought him home.”

I hesitate before answering, a clear indication I’m about to lie. “No, not really.” A total lie. The sex was mind-blowing. The first time, the second time… the third. Nick was…
no
, not Nick, whoever that guy out there is, was mind-blowing.

But just who the fuck is he?

SHE PROBABLY THINKS because she’s whispering I can’t hear her.

I hear every word. I’m so fucked.

I scour a hand over my face before sliding on my glasses and getting up out of her bed. Picking my clothes up from their scattered places on the floor, I get dressed and sit on the edge of her bed, and wait. It takes a while for her to return to the room and when she does, her hair is pulled back in a bun and she’s wrapped tightly in a large terrycloth robe. She’s certainly rocking a different look from last night, but I must admit, it’s just as appealing. The girl is a natural beauty.

“My name is Matthew,” I say instantly, before she even asks. “Matthew Daniels.”

“Well, it’s always good to find out a guy’s name after you’ve fucked him three times.” She says it with a snarky punch that gets me right in the gut. “Why did you tell me you were someone else?”

“Technically, I didn’t.” My answer is bullshit. Yeah, sure, I didn’t tell her I was someone else, but I didn’t tell her I wasn’t that person either. She exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose. I need to take the high road and fess up. “You confused me with someone else. You’re hot, nice, smell fantastic-,” Reel it back, “-and I was going to tell you but I just never found a chance.”

“Never found a chance?” Her arms cross angrily over her chest and she taps her foot. “Hmm, let’s see, you could have told me immediately, or over dinner, or in the car ride back to my apartment, oh,” she exclaims, pointing a finger. “Or when I was screaming out the name Nick during sex.”

Ouch. “I’m really sorry. It was just the more we were hanging out, the harder it got. And you don’t need to worry, I’m not a serial killer.”

Her head springs up, eyes going super wide at the realization that I overheard her conversation in the bathroom. “You really should go.” She squeezes the top of her robe together modestly, and walks out of her room, motioning with her head for me to follow. She unbolts the front door, holding it open.

“I’m sorry, please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad. Well, actually I am mad, but more at myself.” Her head shakes and she drops it back to look up at the ceiling. “I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not. I am. It’s my fault, and I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding. I regret not being honest with you right from the start.”

She brings her head back down and focuses on her nails instead of me. “You probably think I’m crazy. Obviously I didn’t know the guy I was supposed to be on a date with, and yet I was still okay to take
him
home. It sounds silly, but it was just different when I thought you were my friend’s brother. For whatever reason, it didn’t seem as bad or as dangerous… or as
slutty
.” She closes her eyes and groans.

“Don’t say that. Last night was amazing. Not slutty.” It was totally slutty, but I loved it. Every second of it. I’m a dude, of course I did. Last night was one of the best nights of my life. Something took over when we got back to her place; the awkward, nerdy guy I usually am disappeared, and a confident sexual beast emerged.

That something was me. But I was just doing what any peen would do. I’m no hero.

“I’m hoping we can see each other again,” I say.

She blushes and covers her face with her hands. “I think you saw enough of me last night.”

Her pink face is adorable. “I’m a dick for not telling you the truth, but seriously, I’m a good guy.
Usually
. Maybe we can try this again.”

Why ya gotta say dick like that? It’s insulting. The word should mean awesome.

“Listen, I’m sure you’re a great guy…?” She stops, going blank, searching, blinking her brown eyes.

“Matthew,” I need to supply. Fuck, she already forgot my name. That’s not promising.

“But this whatever,” she waves her hand between us, “this was just a one-night stand.”

It doesn’t have to be, I want to say, I actually want to beg, but she stands firm, holding the door open for me. I ultimately have no choice but to go. “Holly, it was really nice meeting you. Thank you for having me over and—”

She holds her hand up. “Stop right there. You don’t need to do this whole polite thank you and good-bye thing…?” Another blank look.

“Matthew,” I fill in flatly.

“Maybe if I had learned it at the beginning of the night, I wouldn’t have such trouble remembering it now.” She goes for one last burn and succeeds. “Good-bye,
Matthew
.” I step into her hallway and the door slams shut behind me.

“Bye,” I say to the back of her door.

Well, that fucking sucked.

I take the elevator down one flight and go to reach my hand into my pocket for my keys. No pants pockets. I’m in scrubs. I pat the chest pocket where I would normally stick them. Not there, just my cell.
Where are my keys?
Shit. My keys are in the coat I lent Holly. The coat that is still up in her apartment. And fuck, we took an Uber here. My car is at least four or five miles away. This means I have to go back upstairs and shamefully knock on her door. Then find a ride or try to hoof it. I don’t have the Uber app on my phone and I don’t even know how it works; she’s the one who set it up last night. Should I call a cab? Call one of my brothers? Last night was great, but this morning blows. On a positive note, maybe going up there will give me a second chance to apologize, maybe get her to agree to see me again, go on a date. I allow myself a glimmer of hope.

I press the elevator button and ascend back up. The doors part and I look down the hall to Holly’s apartment. Outside the door, crumpled up in a ball, sits my coat.

Fuck.

Forget the second chance. I blew it. This girl
really
doesn’t want to see me again.

JAYNE IS SUCKING the Zen out of my Wednesday morning as my body bends into downward dog.

“This Saturday, we’ll try again. I’ll talk to Nick and you guys can meet up for dinner, drinks, whatever,” Jayne says, easing into plank position. “I still think you two would be great together.”

I break from plank and lie face down on the floor, resting my head on my arms. “No, I think I’ll back off from dating for a while.” Although it had been an incredibly fun night, I had been wallowing in a world of self-loathing and regret for the last two weeks.

“Holly, you had a one-night stand, get over it, people have them all the time.” Jayne’s voice carries through the small studio, turning a few heads in our direction.

“Can you shut the hell up?” I hiss through clenched teeth.