Chapter 7: Rude Awakening

The sound of my alarm jolts me from sleep. That darn By the Seaside tune will forever burden my hopes for eternal, uninterrupted rest.

I sit upright in bed, eyes still closed, letting muscle memory pat around for my phone until I finally hit snooze. Five more minutes wouldn’t hurt. I plonk back down and hug my pillow—

“Ahhhh!” I shriek.

I’ve accidentally brushed the back of my hand against Vance’s hair and mistaken it for a giant hairy spider.

The uncomfortable shiver slowly fades as I climb out of bed.

I don’t know how or why I forgot I had a husband. That fright truly sent a chill down my spine.

Well, I’m fully awake now. No point trying to sneak in that last snooze.

I sloppily grab my phone and make my way to the bathroom.

I play an audiobook by Robert Greene while brushing my teeth and washing up. His calm voice fills the room while I try to shake off the strange unease clinging to me this morning.

After slipping into my activewear, I lean down and give my husband a light kiss on the forehead—hopefully I didn’t wake him—then grab my phone and head out to the gym.

The dash in my car reads 7:03 AM.

“Great,” I groan sarcastically. “Just in time for NYC’s rush hour.”

An hour later—after enduring endless honking, drivers cutting me off, and pedestrians risking their lives crossing the street—I finally pull into the parking area outside my gym in SoHo.

I always feel amazing after Pilates.

Afterwards I usually treat myself to an everything shower, especially since I spend most of my day holed up in my study working.

Let’s just say I thrive in chaos.

As I stand beneath the hot shower, letting the steam melt away the tension in my shoulders, my mind keeps repeating one word.

Study.

Study.

Study.

The word echoes louder each time, almost like a warning.

A strange discomfort crawls over me.

I rub my temples, trying to recall my dream. I must have had a nightmare about it.

Come to think of it… I’m having trouble remembering what I did yesterday.

A flicker of panic rises in my chest.

That’s weird.

I quickly finish rinsing off and wrap a towel around myself before stepping out of the shower—

Only to collide with a solid chest.

I look up.

A man.

Tall. Easily over six feet. Broad shoulders under a perfectly fitted navy suit. Dark hair swept back like he’d just run a hand through it, and those intense amber eyes watching me with obvious amusement.

Unfortunately… he’s annoyingly attractive.

I gasp.

“You pervert! Get out! This is the women’s changing room!” I accuse.

The man freezes, staring directly into my eyes.

“Oh no, no, no,” he says calmly. “You don’t get to play the victim here. If you look around, this is clearly the men’s changing room. I think I should be the one calling security.”

I quickly glance around.

Oh.

Oh no.

He’s right.

My face burns bright red.

“I… sincerely apologize,” I mumble awkwardly. “Turns out I’m the pervert.”

I offer him a guilty smile before slowly retreating out of the room.

I practically sprint to the parking lot, clutching my towel.

The only thing I managed to grab before fleeing was my phone.

Everything else—my bag, my keys, my dignity—is still sitting somewhere inside the men’s changing room.

Fantastic.

I storm across the parking lot toward my Genesis GV60. The sleek SUV recognizes me the moment I approach.

A soft chime sounds as the door unlocks.

Thank God for biometric entry.

I collapse into the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel while I try to mentally recover from the most humiliating ten minutes of my life.

Then it hits me.

My keys.

My bag.

Still inside.

I drop my forehead against the steering wheel.

“Of course they are,” I groan.

Honk.

The horn blares loudly beneath my head and I jump in surprise.

Perfect. Now I look insane too.

I’m still trying to gather the courage to go back inside when—

tap tap tap

I jolt again.

Slowly, I turn my head.

The same man stands beside my window, wearing a smug grin.

I roll the window down.

“Hi,” he says casually. “You left your belongings behind. I figured it would be best to return them before any further… misunderstandings.”

“Ah,” I reply dryly. “My knight in shining armor. Or should I say my knight in a navy suit.”

Now that I’m actually looking at him…

Wow.

He cleaned up well.

His suit fits perfectly, and those intense amber eyes are staring at me like he’s studying something interesting.

For a brief moment, something strange stirs in my chest.

Not attraction.

Not irritation.

Something else.

Something unsettling.

Like I’ve seen those eyes before.

I shake the thought away.

“Uhhh… could you stop looking at me like that?” I mutter. “And seriously—thank you.”

“How am I looking at you?” he chuckles. “I’m just waiting for you to grab your belongings.”

Fantastic.

Another incorrect assumption.

I’m really on a roll today.

Flustered, I reach out—and he suddenly shoves my bag through the window.

Smack.

My purse hits me directly in the face.

“Ow!” I shriek, clutching my nose.

The world spins slightly.

Probably from the constant waves of embarrassment hitting me today.

The man quickly opens my car door.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he says apologetically. “I’m never this clumsy. It’s been a strange day.”

I glare at him.

“Did you just call me ma’am?” I growl.

And right on cue—

My towel splits open.

Everything is exposed.

I slam the door shut and shove him away before reversing my car in panic, nearly hitting him.

“Look, I’m sorry sir,” I yell through the window. “As you’ve clearly witnessed, I’ve had an odd day too!”

“Can I at least get your name?” he calls after me.

“What the hell? No!” I shout back.

“Well,” he yells with a grin, “you clearly don’t like being called ma’am.”

I don’t respond.

I’m furious.

Mortified.

And deeply confused about how today spiraled so quickly out of control.

As I drive away, I hear him shout one last thing.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Pervert Tomato!”

I flip him off through the window before channeling my inner Dom Toretto and speeding away.

In the rearview mirror, I catch one last glimpse of him standing there.

Watching my car disappear like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.