Chapter 3

JENSEN

Oh. My. God. Will someone either stop hitting my head with the hammer, or just kill me already. As I sit up on the edge of my bed – my stomach rolls in protest, and the room gives a spin. Ah shit. I think I’m still kinda drunk. I can see daylight peeking through the curtains so it’s already Saturday – and I feel awful. I must have had a good time last night because I don’t remember much.

It takes me a few minutes before I think I’m ready to make the walk to my bathroom. I reach out to put my hand on my nightstand for support, when it comes into contact with a business card. His business card. Same plain, glossy black front with only his name and a phone number below it etched in a raised silver font. Super fancy. I know this card is a new one because on the back he’s written You owe me a new pair of shoes ? Logan Colby

Smiley face. He included a smiley face. Suddenly images like screen shots from last night start coming back to me; the pub, Lana, lots and lots of alcohol, a bus bench… oh no… oh shit… him… me in his arms as he carries me… and - oh crap – me throwing up all over him as he undresses me for bed….

I look down at myself – yup. I’m naked. I look at the floor beside my bed – yup. All cleaned up but still a damp spot where I puked. Oh my god I’m so embarrassed. I’ve met the man twice – and both times I’ve made a complete fool of myself – topping it off by vomiting all over him.

Ohhhhh nooooo… speaking of vomiting…

LOGAN

We dropped Jensen off at her place – we had to look at her ID to get her address, got her settled and cleaned up the mess she made before leaving. I left her another card with a note – now I’ll leave it in her hands. At the very least, it’ll likely be a couple of days before she crawls out of the hole she drank herself into last night.

I have spent the entirety of the day in phone silence, and it has been fantastic. Everyone is respecting my wishes and are leaving me the hell alone. I’ve slept off and on, spent some time in the pool I think I’ve used twice since I bought the place and now, I’m in my home theatre deciding on a movie. I am enjoying this rare time of solitude, but damned if my thoughts don’t consistently stray back to her.

Popcorn in my lap, soda in the cupholder, I hit play and my phone alert goes off. You have GOT to be kidding me!! I wonder who I’m about to fire? I think to myself as I open my texts. It’s from an unknown number. Fucking awesome. I’m so glad I paused my night for this.

Unknown Number “Hi.”

That’s all they write. I’m thinking of all the different ways I want to tell this person to go fuck themselves when the next message comes in.

Unknown Number “I’m sorry to bother you – I just wanted to say thank you, and I’m sorry.”

Unknown Number “My name is Jensen by the way.The drunk Elmo from last night.”

Just like that, the movie is forgotten. She’s gorgeous, sexy as hell, and funny.

I’m in serious trouble.

JENSEN

I don’t know who this man is beyond the fact that he has saved my ass twice, and the least I can do is thank him. I really hope he doesn’t want me to buy him new shoes – from what I can remember, I don’t think I can afford to. It takes me the rest of the day to work up the courage – well, that and the fact that I keep vomiting intermittently for the next three hours.

All in all, it hasn’t been a glamourous day.

But I’m bathed now, with a cup of tea on my nightstand and dressed in my flannel jammies; comfort food and comfort clothes. My hair is in two long braids – Lana calls it my Pippi Longstocking look. I call it practical when I go to bed with wet hair.

I just sent him my thank you texts but he hasn’t replied. It’s been a few minutes – and I’m surprised at how disappointed I am. But he is likely busy, or – given how gorgeous he is, probably having amazingly hot sex with his model girlfriend, or he simply saw it and couldn’t be bothered to waste anymore time on me, or-

Unknown Number “Glad you survived. It looked pretty touch and go there for awhile. :P”

Is he flirting with me? Do I flirt back? Play it cool? Be polite? Or here’s a thought – I’ll play it honest and as myself. Take it or leave it.

TINKY “I wasn’t sure myself for awhile. My liver is still considering its’ options.”

Silence. Come on… respond…

Unknown Number “I’m sorry about having to undress you – but you were already covered in vomit. I promise I kept my eyes closed the whole time. :D”

He sure seems to like his emojis. I was already covered in vomit?

TINKY “??? I’m afraid much of last night is a blur.”

Unknown Number “You passed out in the street, so I put you in my car. You threw up in my car. So, I took you to your house. You threw up in your house. All in all, it was a magical evening.”

Oh my God I am mortified. If a person was to ever think of all the different ways they would want to be seen naked for the first time by someone – this wouldn’t be one of those ways.

Unknown Number “I’m having your clothes dry-cleaned. I can courier them to you.”

So, he is a hero and a gentleman. Not to mention panty-dropping gorgeous. Well, I definitely owe him a thank you.

Don’t I?

LOGAN

Unknown Number “If you’re free, I could make dinner tomorrow night as a thank you.”

Unknown Number “You could bring my clothes then.”

When her invitation comes through, I literally stand up, I’m so excited. In doing so, I knock the popcorn onto the floor, spilling it everywhere. Fantastic. What is my fucking problem?!

Unknown Number “Bring your wife/girlfriend. The more the merrier! ?”

Interesting. Is she fishing for information? Or am I hoping that she is? Maybe I can ask Jeremy to pass Heather a note in study hall. Jesus Christ – get a grip!

LIC “It’ll just be me. If you promise not to throw up all over me, I’ll bring the wine.”

Unknown Number “See you at 7. I think you know the address.”

And with that, I see her log off. The movie is a lost cause at this point so I head to bed. Someone will clean up the popcorn.

I toss and turn for over an hour before I have to jerk myself off – unable to fall asleep otherwise. Jensen has me wound up so tight… I’ve never been a man to lose my head over a pretty pair of tits. I’ve worked way too hard to get where I am, to achieve what I have – to give half of it to some gold-digging whore. Up until now women have been in and out of my life very quickly, never around long enough for either of us to get too attached. It works perfectly; there are always women willing to fall into my bed, and I don’t have to deal with any of the emotional baggage that comes with a ‘relationship’.

Yet the next evening, as I’m driving to her place, there are butterflies in my stomach. I’m nervous. Nervous! I don’t get nervous before board meetings or corporate takeovers anymore, let alone a fucking date! And this isn’t even a date! Simply one adult cooking dinner for another adult as a thank you for doing something nice.

So why do I feel like I am going to throw up?