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CHAPTER 5
Cheyenne
My head was pounding, my stomach was rolling, and my mouth tasted like I’d been sucking on dirty-sock-flavored cotton balls. Sleep was pulling me like I was a bad vaudeville performer and it was dragging me off stage.
I tried to ignore the loud, incessant buzzing but it was relentless. I was just aware enough to comprehend that my alarm was going off and it would continue to do so until I stopped it, which sounded like a daunting, nearly impossible task.
After several failed attempts to pry open my eyelids which felt like they were superglued with gunk, I decided to take a different tack. I didn’t have to see my alarm to shut it off.
I swung my arm in the direction of the offending noise. When a sharp pain shot from my hand up my arm, my eyes popped open and I saw that I’d stabbed my palm with my stiletto heel which must have been sitting upside down on my nightstand before impaling me.
“Ahh!” I cried out as the offending shoe fell to the ground.
I squinted and examined my hand, expecting to see blood pouring out from a wound. My vision was all kinds of blurry, but l managed to make out a tiny indention in the center of my hand. The heel hadn’t even punctured my skin.
No need for dramatics, Cheyenne.
I heard my grandmother’s voice in my head.
I flopped back down on the bed, trying to build up the stamina for another attempt at turning off my still buzzing alarm when I heard my bedroom door fly open.
“Ahh!” I screamed again, this time out of fear when I saw a man standing in the doorframe.
It took my brain a second to process the information my optic nerves were sending it. While I was mid-scream the fear that I’d been feeling was replaced with abject horror.
Cash was standing in my room witnessing the hot mess that I was.
My mind started racing as flashes of memories came back to me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
As I was struggling to get my bearings, Cash walked over and turned off the alarm as his eyes scanned me from head to toe then searched the room for whatever had caused me to cry out. “I heard you scream.”
“I stayed the night to make sure you were okay.”
Okay?
What did he mean?
And, more importantly, was I okay?
I didn’t feel good, that was for sure.
What happened to me?
I closed my eyes and tried to summon up my last memory.
Yesterday was Billy’s wedding.
Three mimosas.
Shots of tequila at the reception.
A glass of champagne for the toast.
My deadline.
I’d been determined to tell Cash that I was a virgin, that I wanted him to devirginize me, and that I loved him.
