24 Hours

"I'm Taylor Hall."
"Okay. That's nice and all but do you have any idea where my phone is or why I ended up in bed with you?"
He smirked and replied, "I think we both know why you ended up in bed with me."
I pursed my lips and looked him up and down, "Yeah. Apparently I'm attracted to cocky guys with really hot bodies when I'm drunk. I do stupid shit when I'm drunk." He was insulted, I could tell. I probably bruised his ego or something. The thought of that made me laugh which only made him more upset. "I actually do a lot of stupid shit when I'm sober too."
"Do you not know who I am?"
"You're Taylor Hall, you just told me that." I stated matter of factly.
"Can you quit with the sass." I honestly wasn't sure how he expected me to be serious when he was standing in front of me, naked, holding a pillow over the goods. Still. Besides, sass was a southern girl's second language and there was no way he could miss my accent. It was thick.
"Sorry, I'll try to turn it off." I rolled my eyes and made my way over to the big chair in the corner.
"You seriously don't know who I am?" He was dumfounded. I couldn't think of who he was, but he definitely has the attitude of someone that knows their good at what they do.
"No. I would google you but I currently don't know where my cellular device is."
"I'm a professional hockey player." I smiled and nodded my head, trying not to stare at his body. Man, did he have a nice body. "For the Oilers."
"So you're just an overpaid, cocky, pretty athlete?"
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me." I crossed my legs and rested my head on my hand and my elbow on my knee. "If it makes you feel better, I'm really sore so at least you're good at one thing."
"I know." Of course you do, bud.
"Seriously, I'm a southern girl and I hate football. I hate most sports. Baseball is really the only one I like. I think a majority of athletes are overpaid."
"Can I put on some pants?"
"Yeah sure. Do you want me to look away or close my eyes?" I taunted.
"No it doesn't matter," he said with shit eating grin, "I mean, I know you want to look."
So this is how it's going to be? The two of us sassing each other until we find our friends or we get rid of one another? Yeah. This is going to go over real well.
When Taylor was done putting on his sweats, he sat down on the bed.
"What the fuck happened last night?" I rubbed my temples, the hangover was definitely hitting me.
"I remember going out drinking.."
"Yeah, no shit. Do you remember what else happened?" I got up and raided the mini bar in the kitchen area. If I was going to survive this day, I would need either pain killers or alcohol and I think the alcohol would be my best bet.
"We had sex." Such a smug little bastard.
"Yep. Figured that one out myself."
"I have no idea where my phone or friends are either so looks like we're both in the same boat." He ran a hand through his mussed hair. Damn. Why am I so attracted to this pompous asshole?
"Well, I remember what room we were staying at in the Venetian so I mean we can start by looking there."
"That's like halfway down the strip!"
"And the only shoes I have here are heels so suck it up sweetie!"
"I can get you a new pair of shoes. I do know where my credit card is." I rolled my eyes and walked out of the room. Does he always get girls to like him by buying them things? Maybe it's just when he wants to have sex with them.
He followed me out of the bedroom and got himself a glass of water. I watched him as he made his way across the room. Even the way he walked pissed me off. Like, "oh look at me. I'm a badass hockey player."
I dropped the robe and started to put my clothes back on with Taylor watching. He didn't even try to hide it, but I couldn't blame him. I rock my curves.
"Are you seriously going to walk to the Venetian in those heels?" The hockey player asked as I grabbed two more bottles from the mini fridge. One was whiskey and the other rum. I couldn't stand either, but as long as they kept the buzz going I would be okay.
"Well, yeah. I don't have any other shoes." He put on his shirt and I was highly disappointed. When you have a body like that, you shouldn't cover it up.
"We're stopping at the mall and getting you a different pair of shoes." He opened up the door, "After you."
I walked past him and blushed a little. Maybe this pompous ass was nicer than he lead onto be. We meandered on down to the mall that was quite a few floors down.
Picky was an understatement when it came to shoes, even if my taste was pretty broad and simple. I walked into the women's footlocker and went straight to the converse. A pair of white hi-tops would look great with this outfit, even if I have another pair back home.
"I'm not going to break your bank, so don't worry."
"I don't think you could." Taylor laughed as I grabbed a pack of under armour socks.
"Well pretty boy. I think I'm set with this pair of shoes and socks but that sweatshirt is nice." I looked through the rack of Nike sweaters for the size I needed and pulled the hanger of the hook.
"Do you want to get a pair of sweats and make it a whole outfit?" The hockey player was not amused that I was getting a sweatshirt too.
"Well, if you insist. You did tell me that I wasn't going to break your bank." I winked and grabbed a pair of yoga pants before setting everything on the counter.
When we left the store, I gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He went to go get a smoothie while I changed shoes and then we were off to the Venetian. We caught a bus that took us more than half of the way there. My poor feet had started hurting from last night. Heels were a good choice but a bad idea.
If that makes sense.
While we were on the bus, I rested my eyes and leaned up against Taylor. He was trying to act like he didn't like it, but I knew he did.
"Room 524. This is it." I knocked on the door, hoping someone would answer. It was nine, but with the night we had I wouldn't be surprised if no one was up and walking around.

Notes