“Hey, puppy,” I whisper, trying not to show fear because I know that’s the first thing animals can sense. Holding out my hand when the dog comes to the edge of the bed that seems like it’s sitting on the floor, it sniffs my fingers then nudges them with its nose. Taking that as an invite to touch him or her, I slide my fingers up its snout and rub the top of its head then behind its ears. Really, I’ve never seen a more beautiful dog in my life; its eyes are a blue so clear that they look like a glacier, and its coat is a mixture of greys, blacks, whites, and taupe that would blend in perfectly if out in the wilds of Alaska with ease. “What’s your name?” I slide my hand around it’s collar until I find the tag then look at the silver medallion with the name Skye on one side and a number on the other. “Skye.” I say quietly and its tail begins to wag. “I wish you could tell me what I’m about to come face to face with.” I say quietly then look to the door and brace when I hear the handle start to turn.

Not sure if I should play like I’m still asleep or go on the defensive and get up out of bed, I sit frozen in fear as the door is opened.

My lips part and I swallow hard as a man walks into the room with his phone in hand, and a scowl on his handsome face as he types away on it. I had no idea when or if I would ever see Clay again, so I’m taken aback to see him, wearing only the tattoos that cover his torso and arms and a pair of sweatpants that have been cut off at the knee.

As he walks across the room distracted by his phone, I scramble to remember something–anything from last night that might clue me in on how I ended up here in what I’m guessing is his bed, wearing his shirt.

When he places the phone on top of the dresser, Skye makes a huffing sound and he turns around, his eyes landing on mine.

“Why am I here?” I grip the blanket between my fingers as he walks toward me.

“You were being loaded in some guy’s car outside a bar last night when I came across you.”

“What?” I breathe, sure that I heard him wrong.

“You were out of it, totally wasted.”

“I only had two drinks last night.” I rub my lips together. “I don’t remember much of anything after the second one. Was there another woman with me?”

“No other woman. I asked if you knew the guy you were with, you said he was your driver, but you couldn’t tell me his name. He told me he was taking you home, but you were so out of it that the address you gave didn’t make sense.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “He and I shared a few words, I got you out of his car and brought you back here.”