Love In First Class

Episode 3

The next morning, I woke to the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. For a moment, I lay there in a state of blissful contentment, basking in the afterglow of the night before.

But as the fog of sleep begins to lift, a wave of panic washes over me like a tidal wave, crashing against the shores of my consciousness with force. This isn't my bedroom. Where am I? And more importantly, who am I with?

As I glance around the room, the memories of the previous night flood back in a torrent of sensation and emotion. Julien's name echoes in my mind, sending a shiver down my spine as I realize what happened.

I'm in Julien's bed, naked, the sheets tangled around me like a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. And as I take in the sight of his sleeping form beside me, a rush of conflicting emotions washes over me like a tidal wave, leaving me reeling in its wake.

Part of me wants to stay, to bask in the warmth of his embrace and lose myself in the comfort of his presence. But another part of me knows that I can't.

This is my first one-night stand. I've heard of the morning walk of shame, and now I'm going to have to live it.

I scanned Julien's room. There was scarcely any time to take it in last night. Julien taking off my clothes at the door had been far too interesting.

A flush creeps up my cheek as I stare at the door. Interesting is one way to describe last night. Unbelievable is more accurate.

Julien was unlike any lover I've ever had not that there are a lot of them attentive and very capable.

I recall the expert brush of his thumb over my sensitive n*****s and feel myself clench.

Focus, Ashley, I chide myself mentally. I glanced around Julien's room, my heart sinking in my chest. The room is something out of a minimalist interior design magazine; all beige furniture and decor. Something that wasn't clear last night suddenly dawned on me.

Julien is f*****g rich. His bedroom is twice the size of my living room.

Last night, when we rode up the elevator to his penthouse apartment it should have given it away, but I was too tipsy to realize it.

Now a bolt of panic darts up my spine. I'd made fun of rich people last night, and he'd laugh. It turns out that he's one of them.

I glance at his sleeping form, my eyes greedily tracing the cords of muscle on his bare back. He shifts slightly, and the sheets slip scandalously lower.

I have to get out of here before he wakes.

As I tiptoe out of Julien's bedroom, careful not to disturb his peaceful slumber, a sense of unease settles in the pit of my stomach like a stone. I gather my clothes and make my way to the bathroom, the opulence of Julien's apartment hitting me like a punch to the gut. The marble counter-tops, the gilded fixtures, the plush towels are practically bright flags waving at me.

How the hell did I miss all this last night?

As I change out of my clothes and into the outfit I wore last night, I can't help but feel a pang of guilt gnawing at my conscience. How could I have been so blind, so foolish, to mock the very people whose world I now find myself a part of?

With a heavy heart, I made my way into the living room, the grandeur of the penthouse apartment taking my breath away. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer sweeping views of the city below, the skyline stretching out before me like a glittering tapestry of lights and shadows.

I wince as I remember the mocking jokes I made last night. For a brief moment, I thought of writing him a goodbye note, but I was not sure if that would do anything. I'm pretty sure one-night stands are supposed to stay that way; as one-night stands.

I'll put this behind me. Julien's life isn't at all like mine. Hopefully, I'll never run into him again. New York is a big city after all