She carefully lifted the duvet covering her body, and saw that she was naked underneath an oversized T-shirt, which presumably belonged to Seth. Tara briefly considered lifting the blanket further to see what Seth was wearing on the bottom, because from what she could see, he wasn’t wearing anything on the top. But she promptly chickened out. What if he was naked? The thought made her blood rush south even as she freaked out about the implications.

She wanted him—last night and this morning. That much was certain. Her body was apparently a wild thing with a mind of its own. Even now, it begged her to touch him. To slip a hand underneath the sheets and feel up his broad chest and tight abs. Simmer down. If she felt this out of control, sober and wide awake, how would she have behaved last night? She might’ve acted on her desire without restraint.

Why did Seth bring her to his hotel room? He wasn’t the kind of man who would take advantage of a drunk person. But look at the evidence. She was in his hotel room, lying next to him in nothing but a T-shirt. Why would she be half-naked if they didn’t do the deed? No, she didn’t buy it. There had to be a different explanation—probably a hugely humiliating one for her.

But if they had slept together last night, she’d probably participated wholeheartedly. She was ridiculously attracted to the man. She wouldn’t call it the best decision of her life, but she could own it. The thing that bothered her the most was that if they really had had sex, she didn’t remember any of it. Even the orgasm. She was certain he would’ve made her come. The mere sight of him made lust pump through her veins. Besides, weren’t playboys supposed to know their way around a woman’s body? Tara wanted to groan out loud, but she couldn’t risk waking up Seth.

She had to get out of here before he woke up. Whatever happened last night, it would be humiliating to face him with no memory of it. She shifted gingerly toward the edge of the bed, wincing as her brain rattled in her head, and removed her weight from the mattress with excruciating care. Wouldn’t it be funny if she accidentally jostled him awake? Yeah … no.

Her dress hung neatly behind a high-backed chair with her bra and Spanx next to it. With a grimace of distaste, she put on her uncomfortable push-up bra and Spanx and quickly stepped into the dress. The hem felt cold against her bare feet for some reason. She paused to sniff the damp skirt, but it smelled clean. Whatever. She had to find the rest of her stuff. Once she found her shoes and her purse, Tara made her escape. She would’ve sprinted down the empty hallway if her brain wasn’t attempting to shove her eyeballs through their sockets.

Once she made it out the main entrance, the gentle light of the rising sun pierced into her pounding head. It was just past six o’clock, and the streets were still empty. Which was good and bad. It was good since there was no one to witness her walk of shame. The bad was that her chances of catching an Uber in her tiny town at sunrise were slim to nothing. Besides, taking an Uber would create a witness to her unplanned sleepover, which she didn’t need. Waddling home in her mermaid dress and high heels was her only option. It felt like her comeuppance for drinking without restraint when she was feeling so off—with a gorgeous man she had a hard time keeping her hands off of.