In My Brother's Best Friend's Bed

"What the hell?!"

My head and chest throbbed at the same time, pain and panic hitting me all at once. I grabbed my temples, pressing hard as I tried to focus. My vision was blurry, spinning, like I was trapped underwater.

My eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. 9:00 AM.

Shit. I have a flight.

Panic shot through me, making me sit up fast. My heart was racing, my breathing unsteady. I pulled the blanket up to my chest, clutching it tightly. My thoughts were all over the place, but then another realization froze me completely.

Wait… where am I?

I blinked a few times, looking around the room. White curtains swayed from the breeze of an open window. A desk with books stacked neatly. Shelves. Dark gray walls.

Familiar, but not mine.

This was Clyren’s room.

And if I was in his room…

My eyes dropped to the bed, and my stomach flipped. I froze, holding the blanket tighter. I wasn’t wearing anything.

Goosebumps spread across my skin.

I slowly turned my head, and there he was—Clyren, lying on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow. His hair was messy, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling in steady breaths.

He was naked too.

My lungs forgot how to work. What the hell happened last night?

My brain scrambled, trying to find an answer. Did I… give myself to him? Did this really happen?

Flashes came back.

Dim lights. Music thumping through the floor.

His jacket over my shoulders. His hand on my waist.

My laughter.

The taste of liquor on my tongue.

The sound of my heartbeat as he whispered something I couldn’t remember.

My gasp when his lips touched my neck.

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head hard. No. That couldn’t be real. It didn’t make sense.

Wait—I remember. I called Kuya Kent for help last night. My hand shook as I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. I checked my call logs. Yes, I called him.

So why… why am I here with Clyren?

My temples pounded harder, like my brain was punishing me for trying to remember. Flashes of streetlights, a car door, a glass on a table—but nothing clear.

All I knew was I needed to leave.

Now.

I moved slowly, careful not to wake him, but then my eyes landed on the sheets. My breath caught.

Blood.

I froze, staring at the red stain on the white fabric. My nails dug into my palms as my stomach twisted.

It really happened.

I gave myself to him.

I wasn’t a virgin anymore.

My chest ached, my throat closing tight.

I forced myself to check the clock again. 9:23 AM. Time was slipping away.

I got off the bed, wrapping the blanket tight around me. The cold air brushed my skin as I crouched to gather my clothes scattered on the floor. My hands trembled so much I almost dropped them.

Another flash—my blouse half-unbuttoned, his chest against mine, fabric tearing, his voice low as he murmured my name.

I shook my head hard. Focus, Sydney.

Wallet. Where’s my wallet?

I dropped to my knees, scanning the floor, my hair falling over my face. My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe.

Then—

The mattress creaked behind me.

I froze.

A throat cleared.

My pulse spiked. He was awake.

"What are you doing?" His voice was deep, husky from sleep. I could feel his eyes on me.

"I’m looking for my wallet," I muttered, not daring to look at him.

"You mean… this?"

I whipped my head around so fast my neck ached. He was holding my wallet casually in one hand, his other resting on the blanket covering his waist.

My eyes squeezed shut before I answered. "Yeah."

I gripped the blanket against my chest as I stood, feeling his gaze trail over me. He swallowed, the movement of his throat sharp and visible. My stomach twisted.

"Give it to me. I have to leave now." My voice was firm this time.

"Wait."

I stopped. "What?"

He looked straight into my eyes. "About what happened—"

"No," I cut him off. "I don’t have time for this. I said I have to leave."

Silence hung heavy between us.

"Where are you going?"

"I have a flight." I snatched the wallet from his hand. "Let’s not talk about last night. Just forget it happened."

I turned to leave, but his hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist.

"When are you coming back?"

I sighed, glancing at him over my shoulder. "Seven days. Why?"

He smirked faintly. "When you return, let’s get you checked. I didn’t use protection."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "No need."

His brows furrowed. "What?"

My eyes flicked to the bloodstain on the bed before meeting his again. "It was my first time. The chances are low. Don’t worry."

His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

I pulled my wrist free. "I’m leaving. Thank you."

His voice softened. "For what?"

I forced a smirk to cover the sting in my chest. "For the experience."

Then I walked out.

The moment I sat in my car, I slammed the door shut, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. My chest rose and fell in harsh breaths.

"You’re so stupid, Syd. So fucking stupid!"

I hit my forehead with my palm, biting my lip. Why the hell did I say all of that? So embarrassing.

With one shaky breath, I started the engine and drove off, straight into what I already knew would be the biggest mistake of my life.