The Detective and the Rockstar

Chapter 12

           Something woke her. She wasn't sure what. She opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. The sensation of warm skin next to her caused her to sit up with haste. She was desperate to believe she was home and the person next to her was Eric. The thought filled her with a strange happiness, though she knew it couldn't be true. Eric was not the person lying next to her.

             Slowly, she made out the silhouettes of the expensive furniture that certainly wasn't hers and then remembered where she was. Like a dam breaking, the memories rushed back to her, slapping the senses back into her. Her heart started racing in her chest as panic took over.

             She looked at Rio, feeling disappointed in herself. He was in a dead sleep, unaware of the internal turmoil she was experiencing. She shook him and received a low moan of discontent that told her to buzz off.

"Rio, get up!" She slapped him on the butt. She held her throbbing head that was spinning so violently she thought she would throw up. "Rio!" Was she going to blame him? As she recalled, she was more aggressive than he was. The poor guy didn't stand a chance. It was her fault, not his. He was too drunk to even get off the stool.

            She got off the couch and turned on the lights. Disaster hit her like a wet towel in the face. The room certainly bore the evidence of what transpired between them.

            She huffed and started searching for her clothes. She found her jeans and underwear first. Her tank top was hanging from the sculpture near the staircase.

"Rio!"

There was no response, so she concluded he had fallen asleep again.

             She picked up her phone and headed to the kitchen, finally noticing it was still raining. She could see the raindrops slapping the water in the pool from the window.

             She opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. She was still groggy. A gust of air left her mouth. Her stomach was in knots. Looking down at her body, she started hating herself. She needed a long, hot shower to wash the shame away.

             She unscrewed the cap from the bottle and took a chug of the cold water. She looked at the time on her phone. It was two in the morning. When she walked back to the living room, Rio was getting dressed.

"What do I tell Alice?" she asked him. Maybe he had the answer to her dilemma. At least, she was hoping he did.

He spared her a fast glance and then pulled his jeans on. "That I called you my blue rose, and you allowed me to have sex with you," he said, but she knew he wasn't being serious with her.

He swept his hands through his hair and looked at her. The lean cut of his abdominal muscles tempted her to remember the shameless acts she had committed on him.

"We can't tell her about this."

"Fine. Do whatever you want," he said with nonchalance. He picked up his guitar from the recliner and leaned it against the wall. "It won't change the fact that I have feelings for you. And I know you also have feelings for me."

"I was drunk, and so were you." She denied his claim. It may be true, but he didn't need to hear it from her.

He inhaled deeply and started organizing the papers on a table. Annika's gun and radio sat next to the wreckage. She supposed they were the pieces of music he had written earlier.

"So you used me?" he asked with a calm voice.

The question dumbfounded her. A pang struck her heart with ruthless aggression, and she closed her eyes and squeezed tightly to bear it. Slowly, it passed, and she was able to look at Rio. She wanted to sit. The alcohol in her system was making her head spin.