Keira’s scratchy eyelids barely moved as she struggled to open her eyes. She’d grabbed her head and squeezed it. She hadn’t braided her hair last night, so it was a nest. She couldn’t even run her fingers through it and she felt like she’d been hit by a truck. At least the cramping in her stomach from last night had gone away, but her mouth tasted horrible. Cracking her eyes, they went wide when she saw where she was. This was not her bed. What the hell?!

Sitting up, her arms shot out to pull the sheet up to look at her legs. The cool air of the room rushed over her bare legs. She was in a t-shirt and not one of hers. Peering over the side of the bed, she didn’t see her skirt, but an empty trash can was tucked next to the bed. The nightstand next to her had a full glass of water and a couple of ibuprofen.

A slight movement to her right caught her eye. Someone else was in bed with her, a pillow over their head. His bare back was peppered with freckles and the corded muscles bunched as he squeezed the pillow tighter around his head. Last night was a blank after leaving the bar. Every ounce of energy was focused on not puking on the street and then nothing. She shifted in the bed and the guy rolled over. His mop of auburn hair flashed as he rolled over, his bare chest on full display. Keira’s mouth went dry. What. The. Hell? It was Eric. She froze as her heart thundered in her chest. Had she slept with Eric last night? He threw his arm over his face and she froze. While she didn’t feel like she’d had sex the night before, as she squeezed her thighs together, she did have the distinct sinking sensation that accompanied moments of thorough embarrassment. Whatever happened the night before could not have been good. How could she not remember? Had she made a fool of herself?

Eric stretched out beside her, tucking the pillow behind his head.

“Morning,” he grumbled, looking absolutely delicious. His dark red hair and golden freckles made his grey eyes stand out under his full eyelashes. “How are you feeling?” he said, yawning. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she cleared her throat.

“Okay, I guess,” she said, awkwardly, tucking the sheet in around her legs.

“Good, wild night last night, huh?” he said, his arm tucked behind his head.

“It was,” she squeaked. Wracking her brain, she tried to find any indication of what might have happened between them.

“Well, it’s not every night I have to carry a woman back to my hotel room and then she pukes all over me,” he said with a sleepy smile.

“I did?” she snapped her knees up and covered her face. Oh god, she puked on him. She should never have eaten that take out.

“Oh yeah, all over me. That’s why I had to put you in the t-shirt.” His toothy grin had her torn between smiling back and locking herself in the bathroom. How embarrassing. And why the hell did he have to look so good in the morning. He ran his hands through his already tousled hair.

“I was the perfect gentleman. Didn’t try to cop a feel or anything,” he said, holding his hands up. The woozy feeling rushed back thinking of those hands on her last night. How could she not remember? She needed to get out of there. Embarrassment coursed through her and she could feel her telltale scarlet blush creeping up her neck. Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she rested her head in her hands to hide.

“I’m so sorry! I ate some really suspect take out from my fridge right before Mark’s party and I thought I was fine, but I think mixed with the liquor it spelled disaster,” she turned and he propped himself up against the headboard with an even bigger grin on his face.

“No worries, listen, we’ve all had those nights. I’m not going to hold it against you. I’m just glad that no one stopped me carrying an unconscious woman up to my room last night because you were super out of it.” His brow furrowed for a moment. “Actually, that’s a pretty shit thing. No one did a thing when I carried you in.”

He climbed out of bed, covers falling away and his tattooed and sculpted body filled her view. Quickly turning away before sneaking another quick glance. The happy trail of hair lead straight into his boxers and she had to hold back from fanning herself, as she imagined what would be under there for her to unwrap. Down girl! Puking all over a guy wasn’t exactly the quickest way to get him to see you as anything more than the girl who puked all over him.

“There’s toothbrushes and stuff in the bathroom. I had them bring some up last night,” he said, stretching his arms over his head. His muscles bunched and stretched.

“Thanks! My mouth tastes like…actually I don’t think you want that described to you. So, thank you for the toothbrush.” Grabbing the ibuprofen off the nightstand, she downed them with the water and stood from the bed. The weak, you were puking all night, feeling was there, but she figured she could make it to the bathroom with no issues. The shirt fell to her mid-thigh, which was on the short side, but she’d deal. She tugged on the hem and practically sprinted into the bathroom.

She took care of the morning needs and grabbed the toothbrush and toothpaste, slathering it on thick and brushed her teeth for what felt like ten minutes.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Keira could easily be mistaken for death warmed over. Her eyes had dark bags under them, her pale skin seemed translucent and she had the overall look of a person who had been puking all night. And there might have been a chunk in her hair. Gross!

“I sent your clothes down for the laundry last night. I think they should be back sometime soon. You can hang around here until then, if you want. I have a meeting to go to in a bit,” he said, buttoning a pair of jeans as he appeared in the bathroom doorway.

“Do you mind if I take a shower?”

“Not at all. I can get out another t-shirt and some boxers for you, if you want?” he said, leaning against the doorjamb.

“That would be great. And I can always go home and come back to get my clothes later, if you need me out of here. I don’t want to overstay.” Talk about being memorable.

“It’s no big deal,” he said, pulling his shirt on over his head. A small frown appeared on her lips at losing sight of all his bare-chested deliciousness. She snapped her head back up from staring at the happy trail as his head popped out of the shirt. “I have this meeting and then I’m here, doing nothing until I go back to the tour tomorrow. I actually wouldn’t mind a little company. Unless you have stuff to do.”

It was the weekend, she had nothing going on, since classes were finished and Jen and Mark were doing all their moving stuff. The thought of her barren fridge back at her place wasn’t exactly enticing her back there. She weighed the options in her mind. Go back to her boring, depressing life or hang out with a musician she’d been obsessed with for the past year. Decisions, decisions.

“I was going to order some breakfast. Do you want some?”

Before she could answer, her stomach let out the almightiest of grumbles. She knew he could hear it. She wouldn’t be surprised if people two floors down heard it. He chuckled, sat on the bed and picked up the phone on the nightstand.

“I’ll take that as a yes. I was going to suggest that we go downstairs for breakfast, but seeing how you’re a bit underdressed, I figured room service would probably be better.”

“Great idea,” she said, suddenly feeling way underdressed now that he was fully clothed.

“Okay, I’ll order. Any preferences?” Can you take your shirt off again?

Needing some salt to balance out the stomach queasiness she was having right now, she knew exactly what to get. “Bacon. If there’s bacon, I don’t care what else there is. I’m not too choosy.”

“A woman after my own heart. A heaping plate of bacon and I’ll get some other stuff.”

She hopped in the shower, adjusting the temperature to nearly scalding and let the hot water rush over her. Standing there for a long time, she let the water wash away all the dried sweat and rejuvenate her. The shampoo and conditioner looked serviceable and as much as she didn’t want to wash her hair without her products, the thought that there might be some puke hiding out in there won out. She’d have to put it up and hope that the frizzy, curly mess that she knew it would turn into could be held at bay for a while when it was wet.

Eric knocked on the door to let her know the food arrived and she finally turned off the water, fingers all pruney. Grabbing a big fluffy towel off the towel rack, she dried herself off and wrapped herself in a towel. Peeking out of the bathroom door, she saw a new t-shirt and a pair of boxers laid out on the bed. She threw those on and padded out to the living room. Eric sat on the arm of the couch, strumming his guitar. He glanced up at her and it was like all the air was sucked out of the room. He smiled and she leaned against the couch and gripped the leather under her hands. The intensity of his face as he played, his eye brows furrowed and fingers moving deftly across the strings made her want to freeze this moment. When else would she be able to watch a man create something so simple that turned her inside out? He didn’t even look like he was trying, just that he was in his world. And then he glanced up at her again and smiled wide.

“What do you think?” he said, looking at her like he cared what she thought. The words caught in her throat and she just nodded like a fool.

“It was great,” she croaked out.

“Food’s here, I was waiting on you.” He nodded toward the table, filled with dishes covered in warming trays. Setting down his guitar, he held out his hand to her to walk her to the table. Why did he have to be so hot and sweet at the same time.

She tried not to let his consideration get to her. She wasn’t going to freak out. Wasn’t going to look into this as more than it was. He was being nice. Incredibly nice, but she wasn’t going to turn this into something it wasn’t. He was friends with Mark, so was she. Making sure she didn’t end up passed out on the streets last night had been something any friend would do. And she was sure he had women throwing themselves at him all the time. With the crapfest her life was right now, she wasn’t attracting anyone.

“I didn’t know what you liked other than bacon, so I ordered a bit of everything.”

“Thanks, you really didn’t have to.”

“No big deal, I’m testing the range of this recording label money when it comes to room service.” He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit. She blushed and sat, scooting her chair forward.

“I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Thanks for this Eric,” she said, folding a napkin across her lap.

He uncovered plates and stacked the lids. There were plates of fruit, waffles, pancakes, a towering pile of bacon, eggs, orange juice, cranberry juice, apple juice. When they had to start putting the lids on the other chairs because there was no room for them on the table, Eric piped up. Keira laughed as all the tray toppers started sliding off the chair and crashing to the floor.

“Okay, maybe I overdid it a little with the ordering,” he said, laughing.

“A little?” she said, with her fingers less than an inch apart and her eyebrow raised.

“More than a little, but damn all this looks good.”

“It sure does,” she said, diving into the plate of bacon. The crispy bacon crunched in her mouth, not like the usual soggy stringy hotel bacon. The salty goodness filled her mouth as she shoveled in piece after piece. Filling a glass with cranberry juice, she grabbed a pancake off the stack and added a little syrup, making sure to get some on her bacon. She glanced up and saw him trying to suppress a laugh. Not usually this gluttonous with shoveling food into her mouth, that late night puking had her in salty sweet mode.

“What?” Mouth full of bacon, she glared at him and took another piece.

“Nothing, I’ll just be sure to remember not to come between you and your bacon or I might pull back a nub.”

“Listen here, buddy,” she said, gesturing to him with a piece of bacon. “I’m in need of the salt to balance out my system after puking last night. And the fact that I’ve actually puked on you means I’ve pretty much done the most embarrassing thing I could have done in front of you. If I can replace those memories of that with memories of me wolfing down bacon and pancakes, then I’m all for it.”

“Fair enough. Like I said before, I have a meeting to go to, but you’re more than welcome to hang out here until your clothes are cleaned. I don’t know how long the meeting’s going to be.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t hang around and overstay my welcome.”

“No!” he said sharply, making her jump. The plates rattled on the table. “I mean, no. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m more than happy to hang out with you when I get back. I just didn’t want you to be waiting around for me, if you had things to do. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to wait around for me, if your clothes get back early.” That was so considerate. Why was he being so nice and cute? If he didn’t stop it soon, she was going to get the wrong idea.

“Why don’t we play it by ear?” She could play it cool. Keep things light.

“Sounds good to me.”

They ate the rest of breakfast in companionable silence with Eric’s drumming on the table breaking through every so often. After a bit, he got up from the table and grabbed a couple of sheets of sheet music and started scribbling. Peering over, he scribbled down notes frantically, line after line.

“Inspired?” He jolted, as if he’d forgotten she was even there. Talk about a blow to the ego.

“Yes, it just hit me and I have to write it down or I’ll lose it. This hook came into my mind when you said play it by ear and I couldn’t keep it in my head anymore.” He checked his phone and grabbed his sneakers, sliding his feet in and tugging on the back.

“Is that how you end up writing a lot of your songs?” Watching him work made her giddy. To see the process behind something she could never imagine doing, had her staring over at him like a lovesick teen. His hair had flopped over his eyes as he bent to put his shoes on. She had to use every bit of self-restraint not to brush it back from his forehead. He unbalanced her in a way she didn’t like. Not even Paolo, her ex, had made her feel like this and she’d only just met Eric for the first time in person. She hated the idea that this was celebrity worship. Yes, he was a rising star, but she wouldn’t have cared if he played his music in his garage. If she’d heard it anywhere it would have the same impact on her that it did now.

“Sometimes they smack me in the face and I can’t get away, other times I coax them out slowly and gently, and then there are those songs you have to fight for. Kicking and screaming you have to get them where you want them.”

“I’m always interested to hear how people go about things I can’t even imagine.”

“Well, what about you? With your art? Your photography?”

“It’s nothing like what you do,” she said dismissively, glancing out the window. She couldn’t even keep a job as a community course instructor, she didn’t consider herself an artist. Failed maybe, but to be failed, didn’t you have to try at least once. Maybe it was time to get back on the horse, to give it a try again. But that burning ache of rejection wasn’t one she wanted to experience again anytime soon. Was it better to be a wannabee or a failure? She still hadn’t decided yet.

The city sprawled out in front of her outside of the windows that spanned the length of the entire room and over the huge balcony. She sat on the couch and stared out at buildings. Her art wasn’t wowing anyone. It barely inspired her anymore, let alone anyone else. She envied how freely it seemed to flow for Eric.

“Why don’t you think it’s the same?” he said, standing from his chair to crouch in front of her.

“My art doesn’t get seen by hundreds of people let alone thousands, hell hundreds of thousands like your music. The best I might do would be to put something up in a gallery or in a coffee shop, but it’s not ever something that’s out there for lots of people.”

“Why not?” he said, placing his hand on her knee. His thumb rubbed against her skin and her heart fluttered and her skin tingled at the contact. His touch lit something up inside of her and she itched to get her camera and snap a pic of him. The things she saw when he looked at her made her lightheaded.

“How do you propose I go about getting thousands of people out there to see my work?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure there’s a way,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Once you figure it out, you let me know.”

“How are you feeling?” He moved his hand from her knee and ran it over her forehead and down to her cheek. The hairs on the back of her neck raised and her breathing sped up as she tried to keep her composure.

“Much better after the shower and the bacon,” she said, nodding to her completely cleaned plate.

“Glad to hear it.” He glanced down at his phone on the table. “Right, I’ve got to go. I’ll be back whenever. We’ll hang out later?” he said, giving her an unsure smile. She couldn’t contain her smile. She was going to hang out with Eric Newcastle. It took everything in her not to do a happy dance in the middle of the room and scare him off completely.

“Sure, I’ll be here,” she said in her best nonchalant voice.

“Great,” a smile lit up his face and his eyes twinkled. She squeezed her thighs together under the table as he grabbed his key card from the table by the door, gave her a wave and disappeared out the door.

What had she gotten herself into?!