Chapter 2 Where was she?
Chapter 1
The kisses on her shoulder felt warm, soothing, and far too good. Camille sighed in her sleep, burrowing deeper into the pillow as she savored the comforting warmth pressing against her back. A soft groan escaped her lips as the gentle and rousing caresses continued. She felt the bed shift as something, or someone, dipped onto her other side. More soft kisses followed the shift, as another pair of lips brushed against her cheek, drawing her closer to wakefulness.
“Morning love,” a gruff voice murmured close to her ear.
The words jolted Camille from her sleep, her eyes flying open in alarm. Panic surged through her chest at the strange voice and she shot upright, only to collide headfirst with something hard.
She yelped out in sheer pain as a sharp, jarring ache exploded through her skull. The impact so numbing that it sent a dizzying wave through her senses, and for a moment, Camille felt herself sway. Her vision blurred and the world tilted precariously as she fought to stay conscious.
"Ah, damn it!" a voice nearby hissed.
"What the fuck! Ahh...god! That fucking hurts!" Camille murmured to herself as her hand went to the back of her head, fingers pressing against the tender spot that throbbed angrily. The sharp sting seeming to grow worse under her touch as it sent a dull ache radiating through her skull.
"Hey, are you guys, okay?"
At the touch on her arm, Camille slowly sat up this time, her movements sluggish as her head pounded. At the feel of the cool breeze brushing against her skin, sudden realization dawned on her and Camille hurriedly pulled the sheets up. She was naked. She naked and in some stranger's bed.
“Holy crap! Baby, your nose!”
The panicked words sliced through Camille’s disorientated stated. Blinking against the throbbing ache in her head, she looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. This wasn’t her room.
Where the hell was she?
The chaos enfolding around her didn’t help, it only made it impossible to think. A man sat at the foot of the bed clutching his nose and groaning in pain, while a woman frantically flitted around him, her panicked voice rising by the second.
“Oh my god! Baby, you're bleeding!” the woman cried, "Your nose is bleeding!”
Camille's hand unconsciously shot to her own nose, dreading the thought. But as she rubbed it, she found no trace of blood and released a sigh of relief. What was going on? And who were these people?
"Who... who are you?" Camille croaked, her throat dry and voice barely audible. Her head was pounding hard as her gaze darted between the two strangers. "Where am I?"
The woman spared her a glance, her eyes narrowing briefly before returning to the man’s bloody face. Had she done that to him?
"Did we? I... I mean, where am I?" Camille stuttered out again.
Her questions were met with frantic movement as the couple disappeared into what looked like the bathroom. Left alone in the awkward silence, Camille she tried to piece together the fragments of her shattered memory. Sighing heavily, she leaned back against the headboard but the chill of the wooden frame against her bare skin jolted her upright again.
Where in the world was she? How did she end up with two?
A quick scan of the room confirmed she was in a bedroom, its floor cluttered with discarded clothes in tangled heaps. Judging by her own lack of clothing and the disheveled state of the man and woman, it was clear the scattered clothes belonged to all three of them.
Running her fingers through her disheveled hair, Camille turned to her side. Her eyes landed on a framed photograph on the bedside table. Hesitating, she reached for it, her fingers trembling as she lifted it for a closer look. The image hit her like a slap to the face.
It was a wedding photo.
The same man and woman were captured in the frame, beaming with joy as they embraced each other with their hands held out displaying their wedding bands. Camille’s grip faltered, and the frame slipped from her fingers, landing with a dull thud on the bed.
No. No way.
Her chest tightened as flashes of the previous night began to resurface, the party, laughter, drinks, and… then, them.
“Morning, Camille,” the woman’s voice jolted her from her spiraling thoughts. She stood in the doorway of the bathroom, a small smirk playing on her lips. “You really did a number on Rafe. I think his nose is broken.”
Camille froze, her mouth slightly open but no words seemed to come out. What was she to say to that? Worse, what was the woman’s name? She didn't remember her or anything, so instead, Camille nodded with a small smile.
“Oh, and by the way,” the woman added with a wink, “you’re even sexier in the morning, can’t wait to have you again.” With that, she disappeared back into the bathroom, leaving Camille frozen in place and her mind reeling at the parting words.
Had she…? No. It couldn’t be. No.
This couldn’t be happening.
She hadn’t… She wouldn’t.
No! Not again.
How? How had she fallen into this again!
Couples were a no go for her! How? How in the hell!
“This cannot be happening,” Camille whispered. Her hands trembled as she slid out of bed, keeping the sheet wrapped tightly around her. Her headache throbbed with every movement, but she forced herself to act. She spotted her dress crumpled on the floor and quickly pulled it on. Her shoes! Her shoes were nowhere to be found.
“Just go,” she murmured to herself as she tiptoed towards the door pausing only to glance over her shoulder. The bathroom door was still closed but she could hear the couple talking and laughing. With a deep breath, Camille slipped out and bolted down the short hallway.
The stairs creaked as she took them two at a time with her heart pounding with every step. She needed to be gone, like yesterday gone. Camille breathed in relief as she spotted her heels and bag at the bottom of the stairs. Racing for them, Camille's paused as the scent of bacon and eggs hit her like a warm hug. Her stomach growled, betraying her desperation. She turned toward the open kitchen, spotting three plates of food set on the counter.
“I shouldn’t,” she muttered under her breath, her eyes darting back to the stairs. But the temptation was too strong. Besides, one of the plates was clearly hers, so why not.
Tucking her bag and shoes under her arms, she dug in. The rich flavor hit her tongue, momentarily centering her from the chaos of her morning. Bite after bite, Camille shoveled the food in, her gaze constantly flickering to the stairs, half-expecting the woman to appear again.
Reaching for the glass of juice, she gulped down a few sips before returning to her breakfast. How and why was she this hungry this early in the morning? She barely ate breakfast. What had they been up to? The answer came quickly to Camille's mind and she choked letting out a fit of cough.
"I'm so stupid! Damn it!"
“Are you still there?! Camille!”
At the sound of her name being called, Camille grabbed a piece of bacon as a last-minute decision and bolted for the front door. Her bare feet slapped against the cool tiles as she yanked the door open and stepped outside. The crisp morning air hit her like a wake-up call, but she didn’t dare pause. Clutching the bacon between her teeth and her belongings in her, Camille raced down the driveway.
Her car came into view, parked haphazardly at the curb, and relief washed over her and Camille fumbled with her bag fishing for her keys. Her trembling hands finally found them, and she unlocked the car with a frantic beep.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, she barely had the presence of mind to throw on the seatbelt. The leather feeling cold against her skin, a sharp contrast to her overheated state. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly and started the car, the engine roaring to life.
Chewing of the strip of bacon, Camille shifted into drive, her foot pressing the gas pedal harder than necessary. The car jerked forward, tires skidding slightly against the pavement as she sped off, desperate to put distance between herself and the house.
Her breaths came in shallow gasps as she navigated the streets, unsure of where she was going but certain she couldn’t stop. Where was Felipe when she needed him. The events of the morning swirled in her mind like a chaotic storm, with memories of the previous night flashing in and out of focus.
The weight of realization sunk in just as more questions crept up her mind. “What the hell did I do?” she whispered.
Worse, her pounding head didn’t help with the confusion. Camille adjusted the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of her disheveled appearance. She looked every bit as chaotic as she felt.