6. Forget It Happened

Stephanie:

Something had gone wrong.

I cracked open a single eyelid but pressed it close immediately. The stab of pain in my head and the fatigue that consumed my whole body told me I’d made a grave mistake.

I put my hand over my eyes, groaning as they were assaulted by the very bright room; the curtains were pulled open, and I couldn't find my glasses.

Attempts to recall anything that happened the previous evening resulted in another sharp slice of agony from my lips.

I tried to ignore the throb in my temples and focused on the comfy, soft surface under my back, which was nothing like the hard bed I had in my room.

God, I needed my glasses.

My fingers searched round the bed blindly. A frustrated sound slipped out of my throat as I brushed over the sheets, pillows, and nothing. I pushed further toward the other side of the bed.

Then my hand landed on something hard as steel and hot as a burning furnace. It wasn't fabric but skin—someone’s muscled arm.

Every nerve in my body pulled taut, and I snatched my hand back quickly as the memory of last night slowly crept back in.

The mattress shifted beside me, and I heard a low groan.

With the intention of running out before he woke up, I tried to shove off the sheets, fumbling across the bed to search for my clothes.

I couldn’t find them anywhere either. The more I searched, the more frantic I became, until my feet slipped against the sheets and I nearly toppled from the edge of the bed.

A hand shot out and wrapped my wrists tightly before I could fall.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The deep voice rolled over my skin, still heavy with sleep and manly enough to send a shiver down my spine.

I turned my head toward him, squinting hard, but all I saw was a vague outline of his face.

A sharp curse broke the silence, and his fingers faltered against my wrist.

“You—” the thick voice cracked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

What? He knew me?

My lips parted, but no words came out. I swallowed hard and tried to search the sheets again, desperate for my glasses. My fingers patted the space beside me, and the mattress dipped as he suddenly moved closer.

Something brushed against my temple. “Here.”

I grabbed the glasses from him clumsily, slipping the frames over my ears, adjusting them until the blur cleared into focus.

That was exactly the moment I saw clearly the face of the man I had spent the night with.

The first words that tumbled out of my mouth weren’t thought through and slipped out: “Sweet Mother of God, what are you doing here?!” I slapped a hand over my mouth to cover my shock as my eyes widened to saucers the moment I recognized the strikingly handsome face looking at me with the exact same look I was probably giving him at the moment.

Unlike me, he was able to mask his expression so fast even before I had the chance to register mine.

He was about to say something but shook his head and cursed under his breath before asking again, “How did you get in?”

A frown settled on my brows. “I told you last night that I stumbled inside. I'm supposed to be asking you that, because what—”

“This is my room, and I was expecting someone else, not…you,” he clarified.

Realization of what had already happened settled into the thick air.

“I didn't know it was you; I would have never imagined. I thought…” My words trailed. I thought my head had been playing games on me by filling me with depraved thoughts of hearing Zane's voice while having sex with another man. “God, I’m so sorry.”

At a point in time last night it had indeed crossed my mind that the voice was too familiar to ignore, but…but I was convinced that it was a different person and I was simply putting a voice to it by myself to fill a deep, dark desire.

I tried to scramble off the edge of the bed but realized I was stark naked under the sheets. My lower back and thighs were sore, and I tried to recall how far we had gone last night but came up with only the image of me gripping the headboard as Zane thrust into me from behind.

Why couldn’t I remember anything else after?

“Wait,” Zane’s voice reached me, but my mind was running in circles, and I was far too confused and overwhelmed to listen to him.

“This was a mistake; what have we done?”

“Stephanie, calm down.”

I shook my head, tightened the sheet around myself, and grabbed my clothes from the floor. “I should leave.”

Before I could scramble off the edge, the door flew open like someone had kicked it. A man barged in, ignoring any sense of knocking first. “You can pay back any way you like, as long as it doesn’t involve you castrating me,” he called.

My squeak escaped before I could stop it. I pressed the sheet to my chest and ducked under a pillow.

Zane’s attention snapped to the doorway. And he said in a displeased tone, “Learn how to knock, Niko.”

“Sorry, man. Bella texted last night, but I didn’t check; actually, I didn't see it." The man’s voice trailed off as he registered the scene. He whistled. “Good lord! You found someone else.”

I clutched the sheet tighter and peeked out from under the pillow, just enough to catch the side of Zane’s face. His jaw was ticking, like he was biting back words. He was terribly vexed.

Then his eyes dropped down to me. For a second, my heart skipped a beat as I held his stare.

He seemed to be taking time to adjust to everything. The next second his voice cut through roughly.

“Get out.”

My eyes flew wide at him. Get out? I was naked, with only a sheet between me and the two men in the room. How exactly was I supposed to just walk out like this?

I pressed my lips shut, feeling heat crawling up my ears. Holding on to whatever shred of dignity I had left, I made a move to grab my clothes and wear them under the bedsheets so I could make a run for it.

But before I could move an inch, his frown deepened.

“Not you,” he snapped. His head jerked toward the door. “Niko.”

A laugh filled the room. “Man, relax. You don’t have to bite my head off.”

“Out,” Zane barked, his voice hard enough to leave no room for argument.

“Alright, alright. Tristan and I are waiting for you outside.” Without another word, I heard receding footsteps as he stepped outside and shut the door behind him, leaving Zane and me alone in the room.

✦✦✧✦✦

Zane's gaze dropped to me again, and I couldn't do anything but simply stare at him, my head running in circles of what and whatnot.

He let out a frustrated breath and brushed his finger through his hair. I could tell he was just as confused and unsure of what to do or say, just as I was. “You didn't recognize my voice?”

I choked out a breath at the sudden question, “No, I didn't. I could ask you the same.”

“I did,” he confessed, and then shook his head like the words had slipped out of his lips unintentionally. “Fuck, never mind.”

My fingers tightened around the sheets. “What do we do?”

“What do we do?” He turned to me with a frown and, as usual, threw my question back to me but with a tilt in his tone like he didn't believe I just asked him that.

I nodded and subconsciously bit down on my lower lip.

“We are adults. We had sex at a club. What else are we supposed to do?” He asked.

I raised a brow. “Forget this ever happened? I mean, it was a mistake, and we had no idea it was each other. So we could just shake it off and forget it happened.”

His brows creased into a displeased frown. “I don't know how you handle things, but I am not forgetting this happened.”

A laugh slipped out of my lips unintentionally. That was supposed to be a joke, right? I turned my eyes back to his.

The deepness in his tone and the serious look he gave me made me realize how serious he was.

“You're joking.”

He didn't respond to that; instead, he stood up from the bed and grabbed his trousers from the other edge.

When he didn't say anything at all, I realized he was in fact serious. Gripping the sheets, I sat upright. “We have to forget it happened, and no one needs to hear about it. You're my brother-in—”

His shoulders pulled taut, and he interrupted, “I'm not your brother-in-law, Steph.”

Steph? Were we calling each other’s names casually because we had sex? My lips pressed shut, realizing what I had nearly muttered.

Zane grabbed his belt and slipped it in, tucking his shirt before finally squaring me with a straight look.

“You were supposed to be,” I pressed. “I almost married Cole. That has to mean something.”

Zane’s jaw tightened. “Almost,” he repeated. “But you didn’t. Don’t act like there’s a ring on your finger when there isn't.”

My head snapped up at his tone. “That doesn’t make this right.”

He let out a harsh breath, dragging a hand down his face. “Do you think I wanted this? If I’d known it was you—” His voice broke off, and his eyes slid lower as he drank me in. “I would’ve stopped. The second I realized this morning…” He shook his head, frustrated. “I didn’t even believe my own eyes.”

I swallowed hard. “Same. I thought I was imagining your voice last night but told myself I was wrong. That it couldn’t be you.”

“You realized.” His gaze darkened. “And you didn’t stop either.”

Heat rushed up my neck. I hated how easily the truth burned me. “I didn’t know!” I snapped back, though the words sounded weak even to my own ears. “Truth is, if I had known…”

He stepped closer to the bed, and I fought the urge to shrink back as his eyes locked on mine, darker than any shade of eyes I had ever seen.

“If you had known, would you have stopped?”