08| Arnica.

I step out of the fancy slipper-shaped bath, wrapping a heated cotton towel around my body, and I move to stand in front of the vanity mirror.

Great, my eyes are all bloodshot from the tears I spilled while I failed to relax in the tub.

I don't want to be here, but it seems I'm the one who made my bed, and now I have to lay in it.

For the love of God, my memory of last night's events is still groggy. I have managed to recall that I bumped into Maverick after I farewelled Kenneth at Fusion.

I was supposed to meet my Tinder date at the new fancy Greek restaurant that just had its grand opening last week. It is why I was wearing a dress and heels.

But I got cold feet after I stopped at the club to have a quick drink to help loosen my nerves, and Kenneth started yapping about how gorgeous I looked.

And that my date would be a fool to not strip me down and have his wicked way with me on the side of the building that has no camera or lights.

My hand had gone straight to my stomach a