Every second stretches into eternity as I lie there, legs splayed wide on the sticky rubber sheets, drunk enough that the room tilts softly around me. I really must be a slut—sprawled naked and shaved smooth, champagne buzzing through my veins, waiting for a stranger to walk in and use me like I’m nothing but holes to fill.

My heart slams against my ribs when I hear footsteps in the hallway. The doorknob turns. I flinch, fresh terror surging through my gut like ice water.