Chapter 4

ALISHA.

My head is splitting. Like someone’s been drilling holes into my skull all night. I groan, rolling over, and then freeze.

Wait. Wait. Hold up.

Where the hell am I?

This is definitely not my tiny attic room. The sheets are too soft. The air smells too clean. And the curtains? Satin. Definitely satin.

I squint against the sunlight streaming through a massive window and prop myself up on one elbow. My eyes catch the faint outline of… someone. A very male someone. Broad shoulders. Chiseled jawline. Oh. Oh no.

He’s lying right next to me. Stark naked.

I slap a hand over my mouth, stifling the scream bubbling up my throat. I look down— thank the moon goddess, I’m wearing an oversized shirt. Not mine, though. And judging by the heat rising up my neck, it's definitely his.

What the actual hell happened last night?

My heart starts racing as flashes of memory blitz through my foggy brain. The bar. The whiskey. That arrogant guy with the piercing blue eyes. His smirk. My dare. My lips on his.

“Tell me I didn’t…” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Moon goddess, tell me I didn’t just hand over my V-card to some cocky stranger I met in the bar.”

Hell, that only happens in trashy romance novels, not real life. Not my life.

I slid out of the bed as quietly as possible, wincing when the wooden floor creaked under my weight. He stirs, murmurs something incoherent, but doesn’t wake up.

Great. Stay asleep, mystery man.

I tiptoe across the room, grabbing pieces of my clothes scattered like a trail of shame across the floor. My jeans. My bra. My shoe.

Sliding my arms through my top, I sneak one last glance at the guy sprawled across the bed. Okay, fine—he’s unfairly hot. Tousled black hair. Those ridiculously sculpted abs. And that jawline? Sharp enough to cut through my bad decisions.

“Alisha, you’ve really outdone yourself this time,” I mutter under my breath.

I clutch my shoes in one hand, preparing myself for the walk of shame. My fingers curl around the door knob when it suddenly hits me.

That familiar scent.

No. It can’t be.

I inhaled again, slower this time and turned around, staring at the stranger like he’d grown horns. But no. He’s just lying there, peaceful, unaware, exuding that scent. Our scent.

The same intoxicating pull I’d felt the first time Adolph’s eyes locked with mine. 

His lips parted on a soft sigh, and that maddeningly alluring scent wafted through the air again.

I stumbled back from the door, clutching the knob like a lifeline. “No… freaking… way.”

A cold sweat broke across my back, and a bitter laugh clawed its way up my throat.

“Of all the guys in the world,” I whisper hoarsely. “Moon goddess, are you messing with me?”

Because there’s no mistaking it now.

I didn’t just sleep with a stranger last night.

I slept with my second-chance mate. 

And I didn’t even know his name.