3|Walk Of Shame

Eden woke up with a start, groggy and disoriented.

She sat up and immediately wished she hadn't when a throbbing pain pierced her temples.

A spark of desire surged through her when she turned and saw a naked Liam sprawled beside her. Even in his flaccid state, he was still impressive and even when she knew she shouldn't, she wanted him still, needed him, craved him.

Just thinking about last night, all the things they'd done, left her breathless.

She stretched and yawned silently, amazed at how every inch of her body ached with the slightest of movements, even the parts that she didn't think should be, were oddly alive. But as deliciously ravished as she felt, she had to get out of there quick before Liam woke up. The last thing she wanted was an awkward chat about her temporary lapse in judgement with the man who seemingly knew her body better than she knew herself, a man who was getting married soon.

She said a small prayer of thanks when she saw her cellphone and glasses on the end table. She snapped them on and sprung out of bed, wrestling with the swaying room when her feet touched the matte wooden floors.

She closed her eyes and counted backwards from ten. When she opened them again, the ground had stopped shaking, and she didn't feel so dizzy anymore.

Eden scanned the massive room, sighing in frustration as she frantically tried to locate her clothes. But her dress had mysteriously vanished. The disappearance of her underwear was another puzzle she didn't have time to solve.

She picked up Liam's denim shirt from the floor and threw it on. Surely he wouldn't miss it, she thought as she grabbed her cellphone and ran from the room with her stilettos in her hands.

Her trench lay in a miserable heap at the foot of the stairs. Funny, she didn't remember Liam taking it off.

He must have, though. The same way he took off the rest of her clothes. She trembled at the memory of every little thing he did to her, every kiss, every touch, every thrust.

"Focus!" She shook her head as she threw it on and hopped into her shoes. As deliriously thrilling as last night was, it was over. She had to put Liam behind her.

At the front door, Eden ran straight into the butler and the bevvy of housekeepers as they were reporting for duty. For a frightening minute, she was confronted with the business of making small talk with total strangers. Something she struggled with on any given day but seemed incredibly impossible today. The drama and admin of trying to make a dignified exit was the only reason she'd held on to her panties for twenty-four years and stayed away from hookups.

"Steven will drive you home, Miss–?" Dave said pleasantly.

"That's okay, I'll call a taxi," Eden ignored his polite attempt at an introduction, declining his offer with a quick shake of her head.

"It can't come in here," one of the housekeepers explained patiently.

"Of course," Eden murmured. It was a private estate. Unless the residents cleared it with security, no one could drive in willy nilly. The rules in the Hills were very different.

"Please don't worry, we do this all the time, drive Mr Anderson's guests home."

If Dave meant to reassure her, his words had the opposite effect.

Confronted by the very harsh reality of what she's done, Eden was furious with herself for letting alcohol get to her head. Her only comfort was the little bit of common sense they still had last night. They used protection. She remembered seeing the shiny foil wrappers on the floor when she ran out of Liam's fancy bedroom with the ridiculously comfortable memory foam bed and the thousand thread count sheets. The last thing she needed was to catch funny diseases.

"Miss–"

Eden snapped out of her shame-fuelled daze and grimaced at the butler; she'd missed half of what he said.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" She asked, wondering how she was so polite and calm after what was undoubtedly the worst mistake of her life.

"Would you like some breakfast before you go?"

Dumbfounded by his question, Eden could only gawk at him. Was this also part of the 'Liam Experience', being offered breakfast before her walk-of-shame, to lessen the sting of being a one night stand?

She wondered just how many guests like her Liam had. It was becoming increasingly apparent he did this all the time, brought random women home and made them his butler's problem as soon as he got bored with them.

"No, thank you," she said, her face taut with anger. She wanted to leave and run to the safety of her cramped apartment and cry herself sick.

"Very well then," Dave held the front door and showed her to the stately Lexus waiting in the endless driveway.

She jumped in the back of the car and slid low, wishing she could melt into the plush leather seats and evaporate on the car's floor.

"Where to Miss?" Steven, the driver, asked, catching her gaze in the rearview mirror.

She wanted to scream anywhere but here.

But it wasn't the driver's fault. And it wasn't Liam's either. She willingly jumped into his bed, even when her friends warned her, even when he told her he's getting married soon, even when she knew she'd regret it in the morning.

"Miss?" Steven's thick eyebrows fused in a tight frown.

"The nearest bus stop is fine," she said softly. She'd take an Uber from there. The less she had to do with Liam, the better. She couldn't allow his driver to know where she lived in case he wanted to make their one-time thing a repeat occurrence.