As I shot up from my bed, I screeched out in protest as I felt the headache coming on.
It felt like I’d been mugged yesterday or someone dropped a piano on top of me.
Of course what had happened yesterday was a far cry from being mugged and the guy lying next to me was a testament to that.
His torso down was covered with a white sheet which as I watched him, I decided needed to be burned ASAP.
He had a toned body, dark messy hair and deadly dark mysterious eyes.
We had met at ‘Clichéd’, the club in downtown NY.
He had flirted and dropped lines that many guys had used on me before.
I, of course didn’t mind at all.
I hadn’t even talked to him because he was hot [that was just an added bonus], no, I didn’t do it because of that, it was just this… what do you call it… feeling? He gave away that told me he wasn’t looking for something real, just some fun.
All I had regretted from last night was the ten shots of tequila and vodka I’d downed consistently and that I had brought Sam [was that even his name?] to my condo. I should’ve just gone to a hotel.
I got up, walked over to my walk-in closet and grabbed my robe, put it on and looked for an outfit for today.
Finally deciding on an Abercrombie sweater, a pair of red skinnies and ankle boots I jumped into the shower.
Twenty minutes later, I was in my state of the art kitchen designed by Marc Daniels with a latte and a bag from the nearby Starbucks on the counter.
As soon as I placed the croissant on a plate, someone hugged me from behind.
“Hey babe,” the husky voice of Sam said as he placed a kiss on my cheek.
“Hey,” I muttered as I let him hold me for a second then shrugged out of his grip and gave him a latte.
“I don’t want that,” he said as he grabbed the cup and placed it back on the counter, “I want you.”
I turned to him and wasn’t surprised at all that he was still completely nude.
Once again, I admired his physique.
If I wasn’t damaged, I would actually have considered keeping him around.
“Not now Sam,” I said as I grabbed my croissant and bit into it, “I’m already ready for the day.”
“Well, I’m not,” he muttered, grabbing the croissant from my hand and crushed his perfectly soft lips against mine.
Against my better judgement I moaned into the kiss.
That, sad to say, is how my mother found me as she entered my condo dressed in everything Prada.
At that moment, I regretted ever giving her a key.
She gasped loudly as I pushed Sam away which was a wrong move since we were standing behind the counter and at least she didn’t sell ‘all’ of Sam.
But as I pushed him away, he was caught by surprise and not ready for it at all.
Mom gasped again as she now saw ‘all’ of Sam.
“AURORA!” she yelled.
Sam had on a confused expression.
“Aurora?” he asked, “I thought your name was Jasmine.”
I glared at mom.
I found it easier to maintain a one night stand if guys didn’t really know my name but now my cover was blown.
Damn my mother!
“She’s a huge fan of Sleeping Beauty?” I whispered so mom didn’t hear me, “That’s just a nickname.”
“Oh Okay,” he muttered.
I was just glad that he wasn’t as smart as he had looked like last night after my fourth shot.
“Young man. I suggest you go put on some clothes,” mom choked out while avoiding any chance of looking Sam. “I need a minute with my daughter.”
Sam scoffed, kissed me flittingly and headed up to my room slowly, hoping to anger mom.
“Aurora,” mom started. “What the heck do you think you’re doing?”
I took a sip from my latte.
“Having breakfast,” I muttered innocently, “Want some?”
Mom glared at me.
“Don’t sass me Aurora,” she snapped. “What were you doing last night? You weren’t answering your phone.”
“I went out to ‘Clichéd’.”
“That club downtown?”
“Aurora. What’s wrong? You hate clubs,” she said.
“I used to,” I muttered. “I’ve developed a certain liking to them since…” I trailed off.
“Ever since London ’10,” she added. “What happened there?”
“Nothing,” I replied hastily.
“It’s not nothing. Look at what you’re doing with that boy. That’s the fifth one this week.”
“I’m 19 mom. I can do whatever I want.”
“You are still living on your father and my income Rora. Don’t give that shit about growing up, remember that.”
“I’ll get my trust fund when I’m 21 mother. Then I’m out of your hair. Forever.”
“Aurora darling,” her voice had softened. “You know I love you right honey?”
I didn’t reply, just concentrated on the checkered patterns of the counter tiles.
“Rora,” she began, “I just want the best for you. I don’t want you to waste your life like Lindsay Lohan. That girl is out of control.”
“I won’t turn into the next Lindsay mom. I promise,” I stated.
“Fine,” she replied. “I believe you. Now,” she looked around my condo.
Sam came back down wearing ripped jeans and a plaid shirt.
Mom scoffed at seeing him then faced me again, “Clean up this mess, will you?”
I nodded, understanding what exactly she meant.
She left after grabbing the other cup of latte.
I turned to Sam who smiled back at me.
“Sam,” I started, “My name’s not really Jasmine.”