In the Blood [ON HOLD]

"You're Never Late"

Charlie woke up with a god-awful hangover and a distant memory of green eyes. She blinked, trying to get her vision to clear. Green eyes? Grayson didn't have green eyes.

Then, she caught sight of floor-to-ceiling windows mostly covered by bronze-colored curtains. A stream of sunlight pushing its way through the gap in the curtains hurt her eyes. She stretched, soft linen sheets sliding over her body.

Pieces of yesterday came crashing back, accompanied by a throbbing in her head that synced with her heartbeat. She groaned, feeling sick and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. She didn't know if she felt that way because of the booze or because of what she'd done.

Swallowing her nausea, she sat up to find those green eyes from last night watching her with amusement. She froze, staring at him. Why in the hell was he still here? Not that Charlie had ever had a one-night stand before, but she had always been under the impression that the first person awake was the first person gone.

Well it is his room, a snide voice reminded her.

"Good morning," he said, immediately making her head pound.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she flopped back down into the soft pillows. "What did you do to me?" she whispered.

He laughed. "Nothin' you didn't want me to do."

She smirked, eyes still closed. Memories of after the bar cropped up, lending credence to his words. A taxi ride, making out in an elevator, him carrying her down the hallway when she said her feet hurt. She'd ditched the heels once he'd opened the door to his room.

The warm scent of coffee hit her. Finally, she braved opening her eyes again to find a cup dangling in front of her face. 

"Strong enough to revive the dead," he said when she hesitated.

She laughed, regretted it, then sat up again and took the cup with a wry smile. "Surely I don't look that bad?"

She was pretty sure she looked awful.

He sat gracefully on the side of the bed and studied her over his own cup of coffee. Charlie was honestly a little surprised and dismayed that he was here. Raising an eyebrow, she took a quick sip, making a face when she burned her tongue. 

More memories filed in as she took in his mussed hair and defined features.

Her pushing him down on the bed. Him grinning when she'd wrapped her fingers around his wrists, pinning him before she kissed him. She had accidentally scratched him. He'd been stronger than she'd anticipated, and she'd loved it.

Charlie blinked, shaking the memories off by taking another sip of coffee. The bitter flavor washed the horrible taste of hangover out of her mouth.

Finally, he answered her question. "Not bad at all."

She laughed. "You're a liar."

"Not many people are brave enough to say something like that to my face," he mused, though he seemed more entertained than offended.

She raised an eyebrow again. What an odd thing to say. 

Drinking more of her coffee she shook it off, deciding it didn't really matter. She was still trying to remember his name. Had he given her a name? 

Discreetly, she glanced around, taking in the rich molding along the ceiling that was the same color as the bronze curtains. The walls were a cream color. Her clothes were scattered over a thick, pale gold carpet. Tugging the sheets more firmly around her body, she took another sip of coffee, wondering which hotel this was.