Free Confused #1 (Confused Romance Series - book#1) by Oliver Cooper Page A

be the perfect time to break it
in.
    “Okay.” I grinned as I took the blouse
from her. “We’re going to have the best night ever.”
    I wasn’t wrong. The Myrmidons turned
out to be a lively indie band, and their unusual techno-folk tunes
had the entire pub on its feet. It took me a while to loosen up,
but there was dancing, and flirting, and more brightly colored
cocktails than I cared to count…
    I just wish I could remember more of
it. To be more precise, I wish I could remember exactly how I ended
up in bed with an absolutely gorgeous stranger.

Chapter 1
    The morning sunlight on my face woke me up, and I instantly
knew I wasn’t in my room. Hell, I wasn’t even in my apartment! The
rooms Michelle and I shared had west-facing windows. I blinked my
eyes open and what I saw only confirmed this. I was lying on a bed
with dark blue sheets (I only ever used white or cream-colored
ones) in a room filled with a very masculine mess (my own sleeping
space is tidy to a fault, and I’m pretty sure I don’t use Old
Spice), and it was definitely somewhere I’d never been
before.
    Last night must have gone better than
I thought.
    That was my cue to bask in the happy
haze of a good morning after, but as much as I wanted to spend
another 15 minutes grinning sleepily at the ceiling, I couldn’t.
Your parents aren’t supposed to be the first thing you think about
after a one night stand, but that’s where my brain went.
    So long as I didn’t tell them
anything, they wouldn’t find out that I’d hooked up with a
stranger, and I was definitely going to keep mum about this little
frolic. No, my main problem was that I’d hooked up with a stranger
at a very public event. The Myrmidons were bound to at least post
pictures of their gig, and their drummer knew Michelle – what if
they tagged her in one of those photos? And what if I was with her
in those pictures?
    The mere fact that I’d been out
drinking would spell certain death for my college education, but
God only knew what I’d gotten up to at the pub. I certainly didn’t
remember. There might very well be pictures of me being drunk and
disorderly with whoever owned the bed I was in right now, and if
those existed, they’d get me disowned. I didn’t actually think my
parents were snooping around on social media to spy on me through
my friends, but I wouldn’t put it past them.
    Damage
control , I thought. Must do damage control.
    The first thing I needed
to do was find Michelle. From her, I could find out exactly what
had gone down last night, and, once I had that information, I could
make the appropriate plans. Like whether or not I should flee the
country and try to make a living reciting
15 th century Latin by the side of the road.
    A soft sound beside me jerked me out
of my less than pleasant musings. I turned my head on the pillow to
see what had made it, and all my worries about my parents
evaporated in a puff of pleasantly surprised desire. Sprawled next
to me, asleep on top of the sheets, was the most gorgeous man I’d
ever seen in my life.
    I’m not exaggerating. He was what
you’d get if you rolled Brad Pitt and Clark Gable into one, with a
generous helping of David Beckham on the side. His hair was a rich,
deep brown, the curls tousled from sleep and sex, and his face was
the kind that inspired sonnets and songs and epic poetry. I
couldn’t see what color his eyes were, but his dark lashes were
long (an unfair trait for a man to have when girls like me had to
struggle with false eyelashes and mascara), and you could have cut
diamonds with those cheekbones. He was also stark naked.
    I lifted my head up from
the pillow and stared openly (the guy was asleep, he wouldn’t
mind). Every inch of his perfect body was beautifully tanned, and I
truly mean every inch. Most boys have tan lines where their shorts or briefs
cover their privates when they bask in the sun or on the tanning
bed, but my guy – if I could think of him that way – was golden
brown