Chapter 19 – The Wrong Bed
Rhianna woke up to the smell of something warm and buttery.
For a few seconds, she stayed still, eyes closed, trying to piece together why she felt so… heavy. Her head was pounding like a drum, her throat was dry, and her mouth tasted like alcohol.
Wait.
Her eyes shot open.
The ceiling above her was not her ceiling.
She sat up so fast her head spun, clutching the blanket around her chest.
“This is not my room,” she muttered under her breath.
The space looked familiar — masculine, dark furniture, big windows, a faint woody scent that made her heart skip — but it was definitely not hers.
Then she looked down.
Bra.
Panties.
Nothing else.
“What the hell?” she whispered, grabbing the blanket and pulling it up higher.
Just then, the door opened, and Hardin walked in casually, holding a tray of food like this was completely normal.
“Morning, Little Wolf,” he said with a smirk, as if catching her in his bed half-naked was the best part of his day.
Rhianna screamed.
“What the hell are you doing?!” she yelped, clutching the blanket tighter. “What did you do to me?!”
Hardin froze, then blinked at her in mock offense. “Wow. Good morning to you too.”
“Don’t ‘good morning’ me!” she shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Why am I here? Why am I naked? What did you do to me?”
He chuckled lowly and set the tray on the nightstand. “Relax, Little Wolf. If I had done something, you wouldn’t be asking me what happened — you’d be begging for more.”
Her jaw dropped. “Oh my goddess! You did take advantage of me!”
Hardin smirked. “You were very enthusiastic last night, if I recall correctly.”
She gasped, throwing a pillow at him. “You’re lying!”
He caught the pillow easily, grinning. “Am I?”
“Yes! You—”
He cut her off, laughing so hard she wanted to punch him. “I didn’t touch you, Rhianna. You’re safe. You just got drunk, passed out, and I brought you here.”
She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Then why am I half-naked?”
“Ah.” His smirk widened. “You don’t remember?”
Her heart skipped. “Remember what?”
He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “You woke up in the middle of the night complaining it was too hot. I tried to convince you to keep your clothes on.”
Her mouth fell open. “No.”
“Yes,” he said, biting back a grin. “You practically yelled, ‘It’s so hot in here! Can I just remove my clothes?’ And before I could stop you, off came the shirt. Then the jeans.”
She buried her face in her hands. “Oh goddess. No.”
“Oh yes.” His laugh was deep, low, entirely too pleased with himself. “You threw your top at me, by the way. Very dramatic.”
Rhianna groaned. “Kill me now.”
“Sorry, Little Wolf. I don’t kill girls I save from drunk disasters,” he teased, pushing the tray closer to her. “Eat. You’ll need it unless you want a headache all day.”
She peeked at the food suspiciously. “You didn’t poison it, did you?”
Hardin gave her a look. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t feed you pancakes.”
She rolled her eyes but her stomach growled, betraying her. “Fine,” she muttered, taking the tray.
He smirked, sitting casually in the armchair by the bed. “Good girl.”
She glared at him, stabbing a piece of pancake with her fork. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? You like it.”
“No, I don’t!”
“Yes, you do.”
She shoved the pancake into her mouth just to avoid answering.
He watched her eat for a moment, his expression softening slightly. “You didn’t eat anything yesterday, did you?”
She avoided his gaze.
“I thought so,” he said quietly. “That’s why you got drunk so fast. Empty stomach plus alcohol? Bad idea, Little Wolf.”
“Stop calling me that,” she mumbled through a mouthful of food.
“Can’t,” he said with a grin. “You’ve been my Little Wolf since we were kids. That’s not changing.”
Her heart did a weird little flip, but she quickly shoved it down and focused on eating.
When she finished, she put the tray aside and looked at him. “So… you really didn’t do anything?”
He raised a brow. “You want me to have done something?”
Her face turned bright red. “No!”
He laughed again, standing up. “Relax, Rhi. You’re safe with me. Always.”
Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
He nodded, stepping closer until he was right in front of her. “You’re welcome.”
For a moment, they just stared at each other, the air between them heavy.
Then he smirked again, breaking the tension. “Now finish that orange juice, or you’re going to regret it when that headache kicks in.”
She rolled her eyes but did as he said.
And for a few moments, sitting there in Hardin’s room, eating breakfast he made, Rhianna almost forgot the pain of yesterday. Almost.