Devon Parker

First chat

Devon Parker woke up with a pounding headache, a dry mouth, and something warm pressed against his chest. He groaned, tightening his arm around the woman beside him before burying his face in her hair. Then he smelled her perfume. His eyes opened. Slowly, Devon lifted his head, blinking down at the familiar face sleeping against him. No fucking way. He stared for several seconds, hoping his brain was playing some elaborate joke. Unfortunately, the woman tangled in his sheets was very real. And very naked. Devon carefully lifted the comforter, glanced underneath, and immediately dropped it. He was naked too. “Aw, hell nah,” he whispered. His gaze traveled across the bedroom. Her dress was on his floor. His jeans were hanging off the dresser. One of her heels had somehow ended up beside his PlayStation. Jesus Christ. Memories of last night came rushing back. The bar. Their argument. The kissing. The very enthusiastic decision to come home together. Devon dragged a hand down his face. Beside him, she stirred, stretching lazily before opening her eyes. For a moment, she looked comfortable. Then she saw him. Her entire body went rigid. Devon watched recognition turn into absolute horror, and despite the situation, a slow, infuriating grin spread across his face.

Well, good morning to you too, ugly. Before you start screaming, just know I’m equally disappointed in both of us.