A/N: A HUGE thank you to everyone reviewed the last chapter! I really felt the love. I also understand that infrequent updates aren't fun, but that's beyond my control. If I didn't have a more than full-time job, then I would happily spend my days writing instead. Luckily, if people forget what happened previously, clicking into the last chapter and having a quick scan is pretty easy :-)

This is a short one, but I wanted to give you all something.

The world that Lana awoke to was grey.

But warm.

Her eyes slid open carefully, slowly adjusting to the weak morning light. It must have been early. She had a sense that she hadn't slept much, but didn't feel tired, in spite of it. Nuzzling the pillow, she discovered that it was soft silk, as she had requested. Lana spent enough time working, she believed in making her downtime as easy and stress free as possible. The comforter was thick and heavy, shielding her from any potential chills.

Wriggling slightly, she eased one arm out, tugging the comforter tighter around herself, freezing when she encountered something unexpected…

…something that felt distinctly like a human arm wrapped around her waist.

She remained completely still, not wishing to rouse her bedmate. What had happened last night? What had she been thinking? More importantly – who was this person?

Steeling herself, she dared to lightly trace the circumference of the wrist with her fingertips.

Yes, definitely male, judging by its thickness and the coarser texture of the skin.

Fantastic. She had slept with a complete stranger at her best friend's wedding.

It obviously hadn't been that great if she couldn't recall this person's identity. Her body didn't feel particularly overexerted either. Not very encouraging signs.

Feeling nonplussed now that she had figured out her silly faux pas, she subtly shifted around, curious as to who had the pleasure of sharing her bed.

OH.

Roman Reigns.

A rush of conflicting emotions assaulted her all at once – shock, dread, elation…and sadness. Shock because this man was repelled by her, why would he agree to spend the night with her? Dread because she had fallen for his plentiful and very obvious charms. Elation because, well, he was the perfect male specimen – what woman wouldn't be proud to have claimed him, even if just for one night? Sadness because…she didn't want to address the origin of that particular feeling at that moment.

Despite those emotions, she couldn't help but take a few seconds to admire him while he slept. He truly was the epitome of male beauty. The caramel tone of his skin was a lovely contrast to the white silk of the pillow, his dark hair spread out on it, framing his face. Her eyes dropped to his lips, silently cursing the amount of alcohol that she had drunk the night before, stealing her ability to remember what they felt like.

Well, as far as drunken mistakes went, this one hadn't been so terrible…she idly wondered if the hotel had installed cameras in their rooms…maybe she could refresh her memory with the footage…

Her attention was yanked back to the man in front of her when he linked his hands behind her back, pulling her flush up against his body. Lana gasped, her hands instinctively rising to his broad, bare shoulders.

"Mmmm, good morning," he murmured, his grey eyes staring right back at her, beautifully sleepy.

"G-good morning," she replied stiffly, once again thrown off course by Roman. She never knew what to expect from him, she could never get a read on him.

"Sleep well?"

"Well enough," she muttered, averting her gaze, studying the complex detail of his tattoo. "And you?"

"I slept great," he announced, gently digging his thumbs into her lower back, massaging away her rigid pose.

Lana looked back up at him, "…I'm glad."

"You sure you're okay, Lana? You look a little…uneasy."

She shifted around slightly, stilling when her thigh grazed something very…large.

What was that? Did he have a morning erection…?

"I need to use the bathroom," she blurted out, horrified by her own gauche statement.

"Oh, my bad," he said softly, releasing her from his very warm, very strong grip.

More reluctantly than she cared to admit, she got out of the bed, intent on taking shelter in the bathroom. The last thing she saw before closing the door was Roman lying back in bed, shirtless, his hands behind his head. If that wasn't a smug looking man, then she didn't know what was.

It begged the question – why would he look smug after sleeping with her? He wasn't interested in her. He had never been interested in her. Had it been a gratitude thing? He was grateful that she had agreed to have him as her plus one? It seemed like an over the top way of thanking her, but she didn't know enough about Roman and his thinking. The realisation that it had been an act of pity or gratitude settled bitterly in her gut.

Of course. It was the only conclusion that made sense in light of their previous encounters.

She glanced down at her ensemble, a black tank top and shorts – probably the last thing that he had expected from her, considering her penchant for high-powered suits and killer heels during the day. But what did she care? She wasn't there to impress Roman Reigns. Her sleep was her private time, she deserved to be comfortable.

She turned on the shower and stripped off her clothes, folding them neatly on the sink. Before stepping under the stream of hot water, she took a moment to observe her reflection in the mirror, noting that her skin was completely blemish-free. No scratches, no bite marks, no redness caused by particularly vigorous thrusting… The whole situation was becoming curiouser and curiouser. He was a big, virile man. Surely he wasn't so gentle in his lovemaking that a woman could wake up without any memory of it?

Without thinking, she slipped a hand between her legs, checking for tenderness.

Nothing.

Puzzled, she stepped into the shower and forgot the world for a few minutes.

Lana pulled the towel snugly around her body, her wet hair piled up in a chignon. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and prepared to face more of the aftermath of last night's terrible decision…only to find an empty bed.

She stepped out into the bedroom, glancing around. Where was he? The bed was freshly made, no evidence of their snuggle-fest visible in the sheets. His clothes were gone. He was gone.

Although a ready-made solution to any lingering awkwardness had just been handed to her on a plate, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. For all of his charm and winning smile, he really was just like every other man. Normally, Lana would be fine with that. She herself was usually the one to sneak away in the morning. But with Roman, she had been expecting…chivalry? Decency? She wasn't sure why she would expect those things from him, but she did.

Letting out the tense breath that she had been holding, she sat down on the end of the bed, rubbing a hand back and forth across her chest. It didn't make sense to be upset. He had saved her from further awkwardness. He had done her a favour.

She squeezed her eyes shut and bowed her head, tamping down on the swell of emotion that threatened to rise up in her throat and grasp the air. This was silly, she had no reason to be upset. It was probably just the previous day's events catching up with her. Weddings were special, tears were shed freely, it was a time of huge change and excitement…

"Sorry, that took longer than expected, pretty sure the barista was high…Lana? Are you alright?"

Oh god. He was back…and had just walked in to find her mourning his absence.

"Yes," she affirmed. "Yes. I got shampoo in my eyes. They sting a little."

"Here, let me see," he said, setting two cups on the dresser and crouching down in front of her, resting a hand on her knee. "Open up."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she insisted, shaking her head, trying to turn away from him, but he was persistent.

"I want to be sure," he said, gently catching her chin between his fingers. "Please."

He almost sounded genuinely worried.

Lana opened her eyes, startled to see concern reflected in his own. Would she ever get used to being in close proximity to him? For her own sake, she hoped she wouldn't have to…

"They're a little bloodshot," he murmured, checking each eye carefully, still holding her face. "How's your vision?"

"Perfect."

Too perfect. It allowed her to admire him in crystal clear HD. Every line of firm muscle beneath his clothes, every crinkle of his eyes when he smiled at her, every single strand of luscious black hair…

"You're not in any pain?" He asked, leaning in close until their noses were almost touching.

"None."

"Good," he smiled. "They look pretty perfect to me too."

Lana watched him, unsure of how to respond to that.

"I got us hot drinks," he explained, standing back up and handing her a takeaway cup.

"Thank you," she said, taking a sip. "Hot chocolate? How did you know?"

"Lucky guess," he shrugged, taking a gulp of his own. "I'm a coffee man myself, but I guessed you like the sweeter stuff."

Lana almost laughed. She was aware of her reputation as an ice-queen, it always surprised others that she had a serious sweet tooth and liked to be warm. But Roman wasn't laughing, or judging.

"You changed your clothes," she observed, noticing that his suit had been replaced with dark jeans and a tight grey Henley shirt.

"I did," he nodded, giving her a little smile. "I, uh, booked my own room. Stashed my stuff there when I came back from work yesterday."

"Oh." She could feel her cheeks getting hot at the reminder of how they spent the night. He hadn't needed the extra room after all. It bothered her that she still couldn't recall anything about their time together, but she was too embarrassed to ask him. "What time is it?"

"Nine am," he said, checking his watch. "You hungry…?"

Why did his voice make her think of other ways to satisfy her appetite…?

Suppressing a shiver, she stood up and smiled. "Starving. I'll meet you down there."

"That's okay, I can wait," he assured her, indicating as much by sitting down in one of the plush chairs in the suite.

"Well, okay…"

She grabbed her bag and hurriedly retreated to the bathroom, utterly confused. Why was he being so nice? This was not what she had come to expect from him when they found themselves in the same room. Frankly, it was freaking her out.

He hadn't left her. He had come back.

And now it looked like he intended to stick around.

A/N: Progress? I have a lot planned for these two.

I put a lot of effort into my stories and sincerely appreciate those who take the time to leave a few words. Thanks!