Chapter Eight: Morning Panic

Ruby’s POV

My eyes opened slowly.

The first thing I noticed was that the bed was too soft… and too big. The second thing I noticed was that this was not my room.

I sat up so fast that my head spun. The sheets slipped down my body, and I realized I was only wearing a large black shirt that clearly didn’t belong to me.

My heart dropped.

No.  

No, no, no.

I looked around in pure panic. Dark furniture. Expensive curtains. A huge window showing a view I had only seen once before.

This was Zane’s house.

“Shit,” I whispered, gripping the sheets. “Shit, shit, shit.”

How the hell did I end up here again?

Before I could fully process it, the door opened.

Zane walked in, already dressed in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was holding a glass of water, looking completely calm… like finding me in his bed was the most normal thing in the world.

The moment I saw him, everything from last night came rushing back in broken pieces.

Flashback

I remembered Sarah trying to help me up at the party.  

I remembered Zane saying he would take me home.  

I remembered arguing with him in the car, my words slurred.

“I don’t want to go with you, you shameless bastard…”

He had only smirked.

I remembered him carrying me out of the car when my legs refused to work properly. I had been hitting his chest weakly, still cursing him.

“Put me down, you psycho… you’re my boss… this is wrong… you’re a damn pervert…”

He didn’t say much. He just carried me inside, up the stairs, and into his bedroom. I had tried to fight him even while half-asleep, mumbling every insult I could think of.

“You’re evil… I hate you… I swear I hate you…”

The last thing I remembered was him pulling the covers over me and saying something low near my ear before everything went dark.

Present

“You,” I pointed at him, my voice already rising. “You crazy bastard! Why the hell am I in your house?!”

Zane raised an eyebrow, looking far too amused. He walked closer and placed the glass of water on the nightstand.

“Good morning to you too,” he said calmly.

“Don’t ‘good morning’ me!” I shouted, pulling the sheets higher. “You kidnapped me!”

“You were drunk and barely able to stand,” he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Should I have left you at the bar?”

“Yes! Or better still, you should have let Sarah take me home, you shameless man!”

He chuckled lowly, which only made me angrier.

“You’re cursing a lot for someone who was clinging to me last night,” he said.

My face burned. “I was drunk! I didn’t know what I was doing!”

“Is that so?” He leaned in slightly, his eyes dark with amusement. “Because you kept calling my name in your sleep.”

“You’re lying!”

“Am I?”

He reached out and gently tugged the collar of the shirt I was wearing, exposing a bit more of my shoulder. I slapped his hand away immediately.

“Don’t touch me!”

“You’re in my shirt… in my bed… and you’re telling me not to touch you?” he said, voice dropping lower. “That’s cute.”

I glared at him, my heart beating too fast. “You’re taking advantage of the situation.”

“Obviously,” he admitted without shame. His fingers brushed over my ankle under the sheets, slow and deliberate. “You’re finally in my house again. Why would I waste the opportunity?”

I kicked at his hand, but he caught my leg easily, his grip firm but not painful.

“Let go of me, you bastard,” I hissed.

He only smiled, thumb stroking the skin of my ankle like he had all the time in the world.

“Keep cursing me, Ruby,” he said softly. “It only makes me want to shut you up.”