Page 7 of None Of Your Business

“Rude.”

His mouth twitches. “I would remember if we had sex, and I can assure you, we didn’t.”

I scoff. “You don’t have to sound so relieved.”

“I woke up thirty seconds ago to a woman screaming in my face. I’m confused.”

“Why am I wearing your shirt?”

He squints at my chest.

I immediately pull the duvet up to my chin. “Stop looking at my breasts.”

His eyes snap to mine. “I’m not looking at your breasts.”

“Good.”

When he closes his eyes, I can practically see him calculating whether his medical license prohibits him from strangling me.

Some memories of last night come rushing back. They’re just bits and pieces, but they explain my change of clothes.

“I spilled a drink on myself.”

“You needed something to sleep in.”

“Oh. That’s considerably less scandalous.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

I flip him off. “Careful, Shrink Wrap.”

A dangerous smile forms at the corner of his mouth.

“What?” I ask quickly.

“It’s just interesting that you remember that.”

My stomach drops. “Remember what?”

His smile grows.

“Why did I call you Shrink Wrap?” I whisper.

“You don’t remember?”

“Would I be asking if I remembered?”

He leans against his dresser, thoroughly enjoying himself. “I found you outside the bar last night sitting on a fire hydrant with your heels in your hands.”

I shake my head. “You’re confusing me with someone else.”

“Not many redheads call me Shrink Wrap.” He reaches for a pair of dark pants on the chair. “I was leaving the party when I saw you.”

I stare at the wall. “I need to die.”

“Not yet. It gets better.”

My head snaps around. “There’s more?”