Los Angeles morning light came through the window brightly, and I pulled the covers over my head as I groaned, not wanting to get up.

Since when did my bed smell like Axe?

And…why did I feel warmth, like body heat warmth, under the sheets?

I slowly pulled the covers down past my eyes, taking in the room before me. It definitely wasn't mine. The walls were a light cream color, and across the room was a black dresser, and on the wall to my left there were two windows, white blinds closed on them.

Where the hell am I?

I glanced over to the person who was lying next to me, and literally had to do a double take.

He was the absolute most gorgeous guy I'd ever seen, with tan skin and luscious brown hair that swooped across his face.

I wracked my brain for how I got here, closing my eyes to try and remember.

"Oh, shit," I muttered, probably a little too loudly.

It all came back to me at once.

I met him- James Maslow, the god lying next to me – at a huge party last night. I tried to remember if I had drunk anything, but I didn't have a headache or anything, so that means I either didn't drink anything at all, or had one or two drinks.

This was so weird.

I remember meeting him last night after we exchanged flirty glances for at least two hours. I was talking to some publishers, trying to schmooze them into reading some of my poems, a short story, something, and James was across the rolling yard, laughing it up and having a grand old time.

I was barely making it, and he had it all.

When we finally started talking, it was probably eleven, and I remember that cool breeze that blew across the grass.

We hit it off immediately, and I felt like I had known him my whole life. His laugh was adorable, and so was his smile. And, he had a nice body.

Hours later, the party was still going, drunken people dancing and all over the place, and since we were so absorbed in our conversation, we didn't drink anything. We were each other's intoxication.

It was probably one or two am when he finally made his move.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" James asked, his breath hot in my ear, his hand moving down my arm.

I knew what he meant, and since he told me he was filming a TV show, I didn't know when I would see him next.

I wasn't the girl who slept around though. I was the sweet girl who you could ask for anything. But James was just so…amazing and I wasn't afraid to do this with him. And by his confidence, I could tell he wasn't either.

I smiled a little and nodded, and James took my hand and we left the party and headed for his house.

And that would also explain why I was naked.

I didn't regret sleeping with James one bit, don't get me wrong. It was amazing, his touch like fire on my skin, his lips tasting enticingly sweet against mine.

But something almost made me want to vomit about this. I hardly knew this guy. I knew that his name was James Maslow and that he was filming a TV called Big Time Rush, and that he was from San Diego.

That's it. I didn't know about his childhood, or what his fears were.

I wasn't in love with him.

I felt my mouth go dry, and I wanted to smack myself for doing this. I just slept with a guy I wasn't in love with, a guy I may not see after this again.

I sat up, pulling the dark tan covers that reminded me of the sand on the beach up to cover my bare chest, and looked around for my clothes- a strapless bra, old pink underwear and a blue strapless dress.

Well, I didn't really know where my dress and bra were, but my underwear were sitting there on the dark hardwood floor. Right next to James' red button down. I picked them both up and slid my underwear on, and just held his shirt up over my chest as I got up and looked around the room for my bra and dress.

I found my bra first and I clasped it on and let James' shirt fall to the floor again. I found my dress next to it, and I stepped into it and started to pull it up.

"Leaving already?"

I jumped, and let go of my dress, which started to slid down.

"What the hell?" I said, looking over at him as I pulled my dress up over my bra again. "You scared the shit out of me."

James smiled a little as he sat up, and I know he didn't want to vomit like I did. Did he honestly not care that we weren't in love?

"Sorry," he said as I zippered my dress. "Why are you leaving so early? It's only, like, eight."

My back was to him now as I looked into his TV at my reflection to see how horrible I looked.

I felt my mouth and throat grow dry again, that sick feeling coming back. Why did I have to feel so constricted? Why couldn't I just be like any other girl and just accept that I was a slut, or freak out and pretend like this didn't happen?

I wasn't a slut because I didn't sleep around, and I didn't want to pretend like this didn't happen because I like it. A lot.

"I have to get home. I have a meeting later," I lied.

I had nowhere to go, nothing to do today, but James didn't need to know that.

"How later?" he asked. I closed my eyes and ran my hands over my face.

"Ten," I said.

"Oh." I could hear the disappointment in his voice, and I couldn't take this. I turned around, my face serious.

"Why'd you ask me to come home with you last night?" I asked.

"It was actually this morning," James corrected.

"Just answer the question smart ass," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Because I like you. A lot."

I felt my jaw tighten. There was no way that was true. And now I was starting to regret this.

"No you don't," I said, disgusted.

"Autumn, yes I-"

"James, just stop. You don't. I don't even know why I agreed to come home with you last night," I snapped.

He looked hurt now, and I needed to get out. Like right now. I found my heels that were sitting on the floor, and sat down on the edge of the bed and latched them on, and in that time, James had found his boxers and pulled them on.

I didn't look back at him as I stood up and picked up my bag then slung it over my shoulder. I headed out of his room, then down the stairs as fast as I could go in three inch heels.

"Autumn!" James called as I walked down the last few steps, but I kept going. I opened the door, and summer air hit me hard, the sun and heat immediately making me hot. I walked toward my car, then dug through my bag for my keys.

"Damn it," I said after I realized they weren't in there. I turned and saw James walking toward me, wearing jeans and a random t-shirt, walking toward me with my keys in his hands.

I held my hand out and looked up at him, and his eyes caught mine. They were a mixture of confusion and want, and something else I couldn't figure out.

"Can I have my keys?" I asked.

"Not until you tell me why you lied," James said seriously.

"What?" I said, not wanting to admit that I actually did lie.

"You told me last night that no publishers would read your work."

"So? Just give me my keys," I said, trying to get them out of his hand, but he held them above his head, and I was not that tall. I rolled my eyes.

"So why would you have a meeting?" he asked, sounding extremely hurt. "Why do you just want to leave? You weren't even going to tell me were you? You were just going to leave without a word and I'd never see you again, weren't you?"

I looked down at the ground, and felt tears starting to push their way up to my eyes.

"Why did you agree to come home with me?" James asked now, his voice barely above a whisper.

I swallowed hard before looking up at him, his hazel eyes seeming to shine brightly in the sunshine.

"Just give me my keys damn it," I snapped.

"Not until you tell me why!" he yelled.

"Because I like you, alright! I like you." The confusion didn't leave his eyes even though he got his answer, and I knew why.

"Then why were you just going to leave?"

"Because I don't love you," I said, somewhat coldly. "And I didn't think about that last night, but then I did this morning and now I regret it."

James dropped my keys, and they fell to the ground with a clank, but I didn't break our eye contact, and neither did he.

"So I was a mistake," he said.

"No. I didn't say that. I just shouldn't have let that happen," I told him. "We don't know each other. Like, at all, James. Are you telling me you're fine with one night stands? With meeting someone at a party and having sex with them and that's it?"

James just stared at me and swallowed, not saying anything else.

"I have to go," I lied.

"Right. Have fun at your meeting," James said sarcastically, then turned and walked away. I bent down and picked up my keys, then got in my car, throwing my bag to the passenger seat.

I turned the key and pulled out of his driveway and barely made it down the road before I started crying.

"What the hell?" I said to myself through my tears. "What's going on?"

When I got to my apartment a few minutes later, I dropped my bag and keys on the kitchen counter, and went straight to my bedroom. I ripped my heels off, then my dress.

I headed to the bathroom to go take a shower, and when I glanced at myself in the mirror, I noticed something that I didn't earlier.

Right under my left ear was a dark purple mark. My eyes widened.

James found my weak spot?

"Oh god," I groaned after I thought about something. What if I gave James a hickey?

The thought made me want to die- I marked him?

I couldn't look at myself anymore, and I took the last few steps to the shower and turned it on, the water sputtering for a moment.

I stepped in a moment later, and grabbed the bar of soap that sat in the little dish, and started scrubbing.

I had to get James off me. I had to get him off every inch of my body. If only I could wash that hickey off- but I can't.

I got out of the shower and put on a pair of denim shorts and a teal tank top before drying my hair. I had no idea what I was feeling.

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