CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER
2
S
hannon slammed her eyes shut again and groaned. Man, it was bright in her room. Why hadn’t she shut the blinds last night? Oh, right. New Year’s. Champagne and tequila. Nothing more to say about that ill-advised combination.
She buried herself in her comforter, loving the feel of its downy weight against her…
And shot upright in the bed.
Not. Her. Comforter.
Not. Her. Bed.
Oh, hell.
What had she done?
A quick check reassured her that she was at least partially clothed. She didn’t recognize the T-shirt she had on (“Death Before Decaf”—mystery man liked his coffee), but the panties were the ones she’d had on last night, and she was grateful that she wasn’t completely naked.
Shannon scanned the room, taking in the dark blue sheets on the bed and the black and white pattern on the quilt she was hugging to her chest. And, yes, the very male clothing hanging on the partially opened closet door.
Nope. Definitely not her room. But eerily familiar in its layout.
She didn’t hear any sounds coming from the rest of the apartment, so she got up, grabbed her crumpled jeans and wrinkled shirt from beside the bed, and stealthily headed towards the door.
The apartment was empty, and whoever lived there had even less furniture than she did—nothing to give her any clues as to who she had gone home with last night.
But with one glance out the window, Shannon knew exactly where she was. And oh, man. This was going to get awkward. She was willing to bet money that the bed she had just vacated belonged to her new neighbour.
Crappity crap crap crap.
Time to get the heck out of there before she came face to face with last night’s mistake. She couldn’t see her coat anywhere, and a fleeting memory of walking out of Just One More and into the cold led her to believe that she might have to collect it from the bar later.
The upside? Her walk of shame wouldn’t be a long one.
All she had to do was make it across the hall to her own door, where she could slink into her apartment and die of embarrassment in peace.
Shannon spotted her shoes easily enough among a few manly pairs—the size would have been a dead giveaway even without the colour. Whoever lived here had big feet and favoured comfortable footwear in brown, black and blue. Her red heels stuck out like a sore thumb. Song lyrics from her childhood popped up like a whack-a-mole in her fuzzy brain.
One of these things is not like the other.
A hysterical giggle bubbled up in her throat.
At the sound of a door slamming below, Shannon lost the grin and shot into action. The last thing she wanted was to get busted sneaking out of someone else’s place by her brand-new landlord who just happened to be her brother’s girlfriend. Or to come face to face with last night’s mystery man. Or,
oh my God
, what if it was Isaac coming to make sure she got home okay?
She grabbed her shoes and bolted for the door. No one was on the landing yet. She hot-footed it across the hall.
Shannon turned the knob, juggling her clothes and her shoes.
Crap
. The door was still locked. Probably a good thing from a safety point of view. But really, really inconvenient. She dropped her shoes and dug frantically for her key through the pockets of the jeans in her hands. The footsteps were getting closer by the second. Come
on
… Seriously? Where was her key?
Find it! Key in door. Turn knob. Open door. You can do this, Shannon. Move your ass!
But no. No key in her jeans.
Right. Because her key was in her jacket. Which was probably still at the bar.
“Shannon?”
She froze when she recognized the voice, but breathed a sigh of relief when she realized it wasn’t her brother, or Jenna.
She briefly weighed the merits of going back into a stranger’s apartment (a bit more privacy) versus standing in the hall in her underwear (awkward, half-naked conversation) and decided that since she had no idea who the apartment actually belonged to, or when they might come back, she was better to keep Jackson in the hallway.
She stood up as straight as she could, pretending she was fully and decently clothed and not the least bit embarrassed. “Jackson, what are you doing here? I told you, it’s over.”
“Apparently.” He seemed stuck on the fact that she was mostly naked from the waist down.
Shannon dropped her shoes. “Nothing you haven’t seen before. Eyes up, big guy.” She used her free hand to remove the necklace with the ring from around her neck. At least he’d saved her a trip. “This belongs to you.”
“What if I told you I don’t want the ring back? What if I said I want
you
back?”
She had loved him once. Or at least thought she had. But now? Nothing. Not a single twinge of uncertainty or regret at the thought of never seeing him again. If she was being honest, she could admit that their relationship had been over for a long time. His refusal to join her family for the holidays only reinforced that they were never going to want the same things. Finding out that he’d skipped a MacAllister family Christmas to spend it in bed with his coworker was just the final straw.
“I don’t think so, Jackson.” She held out the ring again.
Jackson grabbed it, and the look he gave her was scathing. “You get all high and mighty on me about not giving you enough attention, and then only a few days later you jump into bed with someone else? You’re such a hypocrite. Who is he?”
No way in hell was she going to admit she didn’t know. “Pot. Kettle. At least I waited until we weren’t together anymore, unlike you and your Christmas ho-ho-ho. Besides, do you really care who it was?”
He started to say something, then checked the call display when his phone rang. “You know what? I don’t. I’ll ship you the last of your stuff.” He turned and stomped down the stairs, picking up the call as he went.
Upside? She didn’t care who was on the other end of the conversation.
Shannon was done with guys who lied. It was time to concentrate on getting her life together.