1 - Matthew

Disclaimer

Please be very careful with what comments you leave on my stories. If it's any way hurtful or offensive to me or any of my readers, I won't hesitate to block you. I work hard writing my stories and I refuse to let 'Karens' lambaste my hard work. Be negative somewhere else.

Matthew Parkinson doesn't deem himself a one-night-stand material. His opinion would remain irreversible even with the woman curled up in his hotel bed. For starters, he hadn't laid an appropriate touch on said woman. Although the tiny pile of her lacy underwear hanging off the headboard would earn him a skeptical eye-roll, he can bet his own life that he hadn't contributed to the 'undoing' of them.

Her dress was a dark red pool on the side of the bed – he hadn't contributed to that either. The wearer had been the center of attention (mostly men's) yesterday at his older brother, Vren's wedding. Reasons not particularly having a string for a strap, a deep V for the neckline and the longest slit that previews mile long legs.

The woman has simply done the dress some justice.

Every man at the wedding reception would've chopped off their feet and shove them in his shoes. Because right now, the redhead in his bed ought to be the hottest sin every man should make before dying.

Well, except for him.

Matthew is not the drunken hookup kind of guy. He likes his woman sober, thank you very much. And this particular woman had been drunk senseless last night. To some people, it was an opportunity – just one wedding hookup with a drunk stranger. But to Matthew, it was an inconvenience, mainly because he's the one who spared her from a probable unprotected sex and, maybe, a case of STD in the future.

He had to. Partly because his now sister in-law, Audrey Danler Parkinson knows her way over a BFF scale. And he can even tell one of the bridesmaids whom he had a close-knit relationship with, Kylie Preston (one of his brother's girlfriend) knew her pretty well in a besties level. The other reason was, he can't, for the life of him, let a woman staggering in her own feet gets taken advantage of.

Sure, he could easily take that advantage like the pig all men turned into these days, but on a scale between getting terminal illness and being a pig, he'll side to the former.

It wasn't entirely being a pig. It was rather a bigger picture: getting laid and getting away with it.

Again, he is not one-night stand material.

As far as a man's reckless early twenties go, his went in a blur of medical conferences overseas and charity events. Now this might guarantee him the golden "self-important" belt, but he does it for a much greater cause. Not for the reputation boost – most definitely not that. His five siblings would vouch for that.

Matthew pushes off the doorjamb, his hand fisting into a ball in his pocket as the body on the bed stirred – crap, she's waking up. Half of him wanted to run away but the other half, the responsible part, straightened and waited patiently.

A slender arm appeared from the sheets followed by another as she stretches. Then a head with luscious red locks emerges from the pillows.

He tensed.

Glitter painted fingers went up to rub her eyes as she squints from the sunlight. His breath hitched when the covers slid an inch lower before her armpits tucked them securely across her bare chest. She blinks, struggling to get her bearings.

He clears his throat.

Her eyes came to rest on him. She blinks again.

"Hi," he says quietly.

There wasn't panic in her face. She just sat there, looking just as gorgeous as she did last night. Which is a lot of a mystery because minus the well made-up face, she is a thousandfold better.

She stares.

He stares back.

Her hands went up to her mess of a bedhead. Matthew was expecting the delayed panic to settle in by now and then she'll scramble out of bed, flinging her purse at him for accusations he could prove wrong.

Coloring him surprise, she didn't. Her fingers slid through the beautiful strands of her hair as if taming them down. "It's a mess, isn't it?"

It was his turn to blink.

Of all discomfort she must be in right now – waking up completely hungover (she should be), a splitting headache and waking up naked in a man's bed – she complained about her... hair?

As if mentioned discomforts had caught up to her, she winced a little. Groaning, she looks over to him. "Hi. Matthew, right? Or am I still drunk?"

He swallowed. Of course, they know each other. They have mutual people in their circle. She's best friends with his sisters in-law, Kathie Jane who married his oldest brother and Audrey who's now married to his second oldest brother for Christ's sake! And that put them in the same room on a few family occasions but neither of them was ever interested in breaking the indifferent ice.

Her lips curve. "I don't want to sound super demanding but I would really love some coffee right now."

He nods. "I'll call room service. How do you take your coffee?"

"Um," she burrows her forehead to her palm, "give me a minute. What are you having?"

"Black coffee."

"Okay. That too." She shifted a little, a hand keeping the covers to her chest as she looks around with searching eyes. "Can I have it with two spoonsful of sugar, please?"

"Sure."

She rummages through the sheets.

Matthew clears his throat. "Headboard."

She glances over her shoulder, her cheeks turning rosy when she found the lacy garment. She bit her lip. "What song did I stripped to last night?"

Trumpets.

Now if he hears the song anywhere, it'll never be the same.

Jessica's questioning gaze retreated to him.

He smiles, choosing not to answer.

Her tongue flicked uncomfortably to her bottom lip. "I didn't try to seduce you, did I?"

"I don't remember much," he lied, sensing she's embarrassed enough.

She took in a sharp breath. "Oh, my God. I did!"

"Nothing happened." At least it was the truth he could reassure her.

Jessica stares at him for a moment before sighing. "You're not lying. We have more than words to prove that." She started climbing out of bed, the sheets not so much of a coverage anymore.

He looks away. "Breakfast will be in the kitchen." He headed back into the kitchen giving her as much time as she needs to look less undressed. A few minutes later, room service had set up the table and left with a generous tip. Jessica enters the kitchen not long after.

He hands her a cup of coffee.

She takes a sip, then another. And another. She places her purse she found on the nightstand where he left it and gestured at the gourmet breakfast on the table. "Am I allowed to eat some of those?"

"Of course."

"Great. I'm starving." She stabs a pancake with a fork, then bit a mouthful.

He looks at her, stunned. He doesn't expect her to have such an appetite.

"Thank you so much. I really thought you would be gone like some asshole," she says around another mouthful of pancake.

Matthew raises a brow. He is not a fan of foul language, especially on women. His social radar limits to friends he met in prep school to upper-crust peers in college – all brought up under a stiff etiquette. Hearing her curse is not completely off-putting. It was refreshing.

"You're not hungry?" Her head tilted slightly.

"Help yourself," he says, sipping on his coffee. He noticed her hair was fixed in some sort of feminine sorcery, because they appear tame than they were earlier. She had on her dress last night.

He kept his gaze on her face. "How's your head?"

"Terrible. Listen, I really need to go."

"Sure."

"And, uh, can we just forget that this ever happened? I have enough regrets in my life to last me a decade." She swung the sling of her purse to her shoulder.

Huh. Regrets.

He nods.

"Okay. We'll probably never see each other until Kylie and your brother Christian gets engaged, so it's for the best."

"Okay."

She sighed, taking one last sip of her coffee and laying it down the table. "Okay, then. Goodbye forever."

His mind had registered that she gave him a sly smile. Then she turns away, leaving trails of all things red in his mind.

HERE IT IS, YOU GUYS! Also, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY to these wonderful human beings! @mckensie2020 @mushtix123 @Cupcake_hamilton