4
GEORGIA'S POV
I was sitting across from Jaime on the sofa in his living room, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. He was watching me with those piercing, deep sea-blue eyes of his, the silence between us heavy enough to choke on.
Then, a woman drifted down the stairs. She was wearing nothing but a bikini top and tiny lace panties. She didn't even blink at my presence; she just sauntered over to the man I was supposed to marry and draped herself across his lap.
"What is this, Jaime? What did I ever do to deserve this?" I finally managed to choke out.
"I was about to ask you the same thing," he shot back. My brows furrowed in confusion until I felt the sofa dip beside me. I spun around to find a man sitting there—a man whose build was hauntingly similar to the stranger from the bar.
"Didn't you sleep with him?" Jaime accused, a cruel edge to his voice. I scrambled to my feet, my head spinning.
"I… wait. You have to listen to me." I turned to the stranger, who was now wearing a terrifying, knowing smirk. I felt a wave of nausea and pure dread wash over me.
Jaime stepped up beside me, his expression cold. "So, how about we just bury this? No drama, no noise. We both have our secrets."
"No! Last night, I was… I was…!" I tried to scream that I had been drugged, that I hadn't been in my right mind, but the words died in my throat. Jaime just smirked.
The woman smirked. The stranger smirked. The room began to contract, the walls leaning in as if they were going to swallow me whole. Their faces pressed closer and closer—
"Wait!" I shrieked, but it came out as a ragged gasp as my eyes snapped open.
A plain, white ceiling.
I was still in bed.
I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head, my breath hitching. What a nightmare. Why would Jaime ever accuse me of cheating? Then again, the dream felt tangled with hazy, blurry memories of actually being with a stranger.
Dreams... they always have a cruel way of weaving pieces of reality into your deepest fears.
Wait—where was I? I remembered running from Jaime's. I remembered the bar, the alcohol... but who had brought me here? Had I stayed the night?
I opened my eyes, a heavy exhaustion weighing down my limbs. My memory of the previous night was like a shattered mirror—sharp, jagged pieces that didn't quite form a full picture.
I scanned the room. It was a neat, standard hotel interior. Relieved that I was in a safe place, I started to roll over to go back to sleep, but a muffled sound caught my ear. I looked to the side and nearly screamed. The sheer terror sent me scrambling backward so fast I tumbled right off the mattress, landing hard on the cold floor.
I clapped a hand over my mouth as I realized I was completely naked.
And there was a man in my bed.
God, no... Georgia, tell me you didn't. Please tell me you didn't sleep with him.
My jaw dropped as the fragments of the night began to lock into place. The bartender's "kindness," the harassment, the spiked drink... the stranger stepping in and carrying me to this room...
"Oh no," I whispered, shaking my head. I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to know.
But the memories flooded back anyway, vivid and undeniable. The heat, the soft sounds, the frantic beating of my heart, the way I had clung to him.
I scrambled to gather my clothes, darting into the small bathroom. I leaned against the door, taking a jagged breath before frantically pulling my clothes on.
I had actually done it. I had slept with a complete stranger.
My fingers were trembling so badly I could barely work the buttons of my shirt. When I tried to shove my legs into my jeans, I tripped and hit the floor again, hissing in pain.
I realized my phone was still on the bed—and his arm was draped precariously close to it.
I tiptoed back into the room, reaching out a shaking hand to snatch the phone without waking him. I couldn't believe it hadn't fallen off the bed; it was tucked right against his side.
I gripped the edge of the phone with three fingers, but then I stopped.
The curtains shifted slightly, letting a beam of morning light dance across his face. His eyes moved beneath his lids, and I froze—not out of fear of him waking, but because I hadn't realized just how breathtaking he was.
He had light, sandy-brown eyebrows and thick, dark lashes. His hair was a messy chestnut tangle across his forehead. He had full, heart-shaped lips, fair skin, and a jawline that looked like it had been carved from marble.
The sheer beauty of his face hit me like a physical blow. How could someone be that handsome? I wondered for a second what color his eyes were, but I didn't dare stick around to find out.
After a few moments of being completely mesmerized, I forced myself to look away and took a deep breath. It doesn't matter. I'll never see him again. I grabbed my phone and slipped out of the room.
The bar downstairs was already humming with staff and early morning patrons.
"The bartender from last night—where is he?" I asked the woman behind the counter, my anger simmering. He was the reason for this mess.
"Trevor? He actually quit this morning," she replied.
"Of course he did," I scoffed, biting my lip in frustration. I pulled out my credit card. "I need to settle my tab. The room and the drinks. There's a man still in the room, too."
The woman gave me a knowing look—the kind that made my skin crawl with embarrassment—and took my card.
"How many drinks did you have, honey?"
"Just… put five bottles on my tab," I said, wanting to be done with it.
"Five?" her eyes widened. "Oh. I'm so sorry."
The second she handed back my card, I bolted for the exit.
I was far from my neighborhood; there was no chance I'd ever run into that stranger again. Any problems? I'd just have to bury them. That is, if I could ever get his face out of my head.
I hailed a taxi and gave my address.
As I leaned back and closed my eyes, the memories refused to leave. The heat of the night and the striking image of the stranger's face were burned into my mind. Some people were just born with the kind of beauty that wrecks your sanity.
As for Jaime? I wasn't just leaving him. I was going to burn our wedding to the ground.