Woke Up Naked Next to a Stranger - Chapter 13: Chapter 13
You are reading Woke Up Naked Next to a Stranger, Chapter 13: Chapter 13. Read more chapters of Woke Up Naked Next to a Stranger.
The lineup of handsome guys clearly got Vanessa's memo—one by one, they made their way over, drinks in hand, trying to strike up a conversation. But I shut them all down with polite indifference.
Instead, I sat back, watching as they laughed, clinked glasses, and played ridiculous drinking games.
Vanessa must've picked up on my lack of interest because, before long, the door swung open—and in walked a familiar face.
Peter Harrison.
That same Black fitness trainer from before.
"Vanessa," I hissed under my breath, "why is he here?"
The second I saw him, our last encounter flashed through my mind—the way he'd stormed off, furious after our argument.
Now, suddenly appearing in the VIP room? My guard shot up instantly.
"Sophia, I owe you an apology!"
To my shock, Peter strode right up to me and—in front of everyone—bowed deeply. Then, snatching a glass from the table, he downed it in one go.
"I was out of line last time," he said, voice earnest. "Please, forgive me."
Vanessa, ever the orchestrator, gave him a pointed look.
And just like that, Peter launched into the smoothest, most effortlessly cool street dance I'd ever seen.
I couldn't help it—his moves were electric, full of swagger, even a little playful. Before I knew it, I was laughing.
The whole room seemed to exhale in relief.
Vanessa seized the moment, rallying everyone to their feet. Soon, the space was alive with movement—couples swaying, stepping, laughing.
Peter, ever the showman, extended his hand to me with a dramatic bow.
The mood was too infectious to resist. I took his hand, letting him lead.
And damn, could this man dance. Every step was fluid, effortless. Meanwhile, I was all left feet, stumbling, even crushing his toes a few times.
But he just grinned, patient, encouraging—until finally, I relaxed into it.
Maybe it was the alcohol finally hitting, but soon, my head was spinning.
When the song ended, the group dissolved back into drinks and chatter.
Peter, still playing the gentleman, offered me a peace-drink. And this time, I actually took it.
Hours slipped by. By the time I announced I needed to leave, I hadn't realized how much I'd had. The second I stood, my legs betrayed me, wobbling like jelly.
I don't remember much after that. Just waking up later, sprawled across a soft, unfamiliar bed. Vanessa must've taken me home.
Then, like a flood, Ethan's face filled my mind—every memory, every stolen moment before the wedding.
The ache was unbearable. Before I could stop myself, his name tore from my lips.
"Ethan!"
"Ethan, please... come home."
"Please..."
Then—warmth. Strong arms encircling me.
Blinking through the haze, I saw... him.
"Darling... is it really you?" My voice cracked. "You came back?"
"Don't leave me again..."
His hold tightened. And then—soft, tender—his lips brushed my forehead.
Instead, I sat back, watching as they laughed, clinked glasses, and played ridiculous drinking games.
Vanessa must've picked up on my lack of interest because, before long, the door swung open—and in walked a familiar face.
Peter Harrison.
That same Black fitness trainer from before.
"Vanessa," I hissed under my breath, "why is he here?"
The second I saw him, our last encounter flashed through my mind—the way he'd stormed off, furious after our argument.
Now, suddenly appearing in the VIP room? My guard shot up instantly.
"Sophia, I owe you an apology!"
To my shock, Peter strode right up to me and—in front of everyone—bowed deeply. Then, snatching a glass from the table, he downed it in one go.
"I was out of line last time," he said, voice earnest. "Please, forgive me."
Vanessa, ever the orchestrator, gave him a pointed look.
And just like that, Peter launched into the smoothest, most effortlessly cool street dance I'd ever seen.
I couldn't help it—his moves were electric, full of swagger, even a little playful. Before I knew it, I was laughing.
The whole room seemed to exhale in relief.
Vanessa seized the moment, rallying everyone to their feet. Soon, the space was alive with movement—couples swaying, stepping, laughing.
Peter, ever the showman, extended his hand to me with a dramatic bow.
The mood was too infectious to resist. I took his hand, letting him lead.
And damn, could this man dance. Every step was fluid, effortless. Meanwhile, I was all left feet, stumbling, even crushing his toes a few times.
But he just grinned, patient, encouraging—until finally, I relaxed into it.
Maybe it was the alcohol finally hitting, but soon, my head was spinning.
When the song ended, the group dissolved back into drinks and chatter.
Peter, still playing the gentleman, offered me a peace-drink. And this time, I actually took it.
Hours slipped by. By the time I announced I needed to leave, I hadn't realized how much I'd had. The second I stood, my legs betrayed me, wobbling like jelly.
I don't remember much after that. Just waking up later, sprawled across a soft, unfamiliar bed. Vanessa must've taken me home.
Then, like a flood, Ethan's face filled my mind—every memory, every stolen moment before the wedding.
The ache was unbearable. Before I could stop myself, his name tore from my lips.
"Ethan!"
"Ethan, please... come home."
"Please..."
Then—warmth. Strong arms encircling me.
Blinking through the haze, I saw... him.
"Darling... is it really you?" My voice cracked. "You came back?"
"Don't leave me again..."
His hold tightened. And then—soft, tender—his lips brushed my forehead.
End of Woke Up Naked Next to a Stranger Chapter 13. Continue reading Chapter 14 or return to Woke Up Naked Next to a Stranger book page.