Someone Like You (Someone To Love Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

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2
    DINNER AND A MOVE OUT

    Ally
    I dream of white sandy beaches. I’m holding hands with a handsome dark-haired man as we run down the slippery shore. He wears his tattoos like battle scars. They race up his arms—a kaleidoscope of color on one, a ferocious dragon on the other. The warm summer sand thumps beneath our feet. The ocean is as blue as his eyes. He presses himself into the pages of my heart like a dark exotic flower. He takes me in his arms and sears his skin over my chest and my bare belly before covering me with a kiss. His hips grind against mine and it all comes back to me as I wake with a start.
    My hand slaps down over the empty space next to me. It takes everything in me to peel my eyes open, gritty as sandpaper.
    “No.” I moan as a bolt of pain ricochets through me.
    We hadn’t made it to the mattress, had we? It must have been a dream—a deliciously dark and twisted dream. Nevertheless, something that wicked could only be produced from the bottom of a champagne bottle. I take a breath and lean up on my elbows. Gone is the Pottery Barn comforter I purchased at Goodwill for eleven dollars, my Garrison University pendant has been snatched from the wall, and my entire Disney snow globe collection is suspiciously missing.
    What the…
    A mild panic ripples through me as I note all of my things have up and vanished.
    He ripped me off! Son of a bitch. He took my bedding and my pendant and who knows what the hell else he pilfered while I was passed out cold. And what kind of asshole steals snow globes? God, I bet he’s got some twisted décor-based fetish too.
    Next to me, there’s a foreign-looking nightstand and an annoying blinking alarm clock—wait…I don’t have an alarm clock. Do I? My head bursts as a racking pain spears though me.
    “Oh shit.” I fall back on the bed as it all comes back to me. That’s right. Pretty Girls equals champagne, equals one-night stand in Tess’s Fan-tessy suite. “Why am I so stupid?”
    Wait, did that really happen? I glance around the room for evidence of said gorgeous boy toy but nary a tennis shoe is left in his wake. I probably landed here all by my lonesome. I bet Tess and Dell had to carry me— drag me. Figures. Not only did I get severely tanked, I had a grand delusion of the sex-god variety. But damn was it good— he was good.
    What was his name again? Miller? Maximus? Minimus?
    I sweep my legs over the side of the bed and my insides feel as if they’ve regurgitated themselves all night long. I toss on an oversized sweatshirt and go into the living room. That slight raw, burning feeling between my legs confirms that indeed Dr. Dragon Tattoo had done a thorough internal examination before he so rudely up and left. God, he probably looked nothing like I remember. My knees shake as I bring my legs together, and my insides alert me to the fact that what happened last night was very much indeed real, and perhaps worthy of a visit to the ER.
    It was most likely that greasy-haired douche from the back who kept yelping at me to take it off. I’ll be dead of some exotic strain of venereal disease in approximately nine months once I give birth to a litter of greasy-haired puppies. This is precisely why I never drink. Everyone knows beer goggles are a proven scientific fact, and champagne goggles are twice as likely to make the common household douche transform into a Times Square underwear model. Just fuck.
    The toilet flushes, and the door to the bathroom swings open.
    My heart seizes as footsteps head in my direction.
    “Morning, sunshine!” Tess smiles, her teeth glittering like a row of tiny mirrors, and everything in me sighs with relief.
    “Thank God it’s just you. Why was I in your bedroom? Where did you sleep?” Panic shrills through me like an alarm.
    “One—you were wasted. And two—you needed the bed.” She gives a little wink. “Dell and I slept in the spare.” A smile twitches on her lips. “You want eggs?” She moves