Professional Publicity Stunt » Shawn Mendes✔️

timestamp - where were you in the morning, baby?

A/N: Oh hi! I've had this idea in my head for a long while. It was originally supposed to be part of a chapter, but I never found a place for it to fit. But that's not going to stop me from sharing it with you guys.

A few of you caught it when I hinted about Rylie being the girl behind WWYITM and I just knew I'd have to write a scene where Shawn figures it out (and Rylie, because the night is fuzzy for them both). So here's this fluffy/hint of steamy timestamp.

Oh, and thank you guys for reading this story! It's at 87k reads right now as I write this, but it's been climbing steadily for some time now. I love you guys so, so much xx.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Did I seriously stay at this guy's place? I'm such an idiot. I don't even know his fucking name.

That's it, I'm done drinking. Sidney is going to skin me alive when he finds out about this.

I mutter cuss words and various profanities to myself as I hastily grab my clothes, throwing things on and hoping they're the right way. I don't have time to look at myself in a mirror right now, or worry about being presentable for that matter. I'm more worried about leaving before this dude wakes up.

He's snoring, though, so I think I'm in the clear.

He looks cute when he's snoring. If anything, I'm glad this stranger is handsome. It almost makes me want to crawl back into bed next to him, accidentally wake him up, and explain it as needing to pee.

But my bank account is screaming, and it's much louder than that voice in my head that wants to have a real relationship.

I slip through handsome stranger's front door, dialing Sidney's number when I'm in the elevator.

"Hey...I kind of need a ride.."

+++

The night comes back to me in waves when Shawn pulls up outside his apartment in Toronto. I stare at the complex, my eyes wide.

This has to be a coincidence. Come on, there's just no way.

If this is the universe playing games with me to teach me a lesson, I got it. Lesson learned, whatever it was. But stop it now.

"You okay?"

"I'm great," I blurt, jumping out of the car like it's about to explode.

Shawn looks less than convinced when he shuts his door, reaching out for my hand. I take it, hoping he can't feel how clammy it is right now. But I'm sure he does, because he asks if I'm okay again.

"Yeah..." I nod. "Just...this is an odd thing to say, but I think...I think I've been here before."

He furrows his eyebrows, glancing at me as we walk to the elevator. "Really?"

"Yeah, I just get this strong deja vu," I shake my head. "It's probably nothing."

But it's not nothing.

Shawn leads me up to his place, stopping right in front of the door I remember crashing into that night. We had both been drinking, that much I remember. We were a mess, knocking into walls and slamming each other against them. He had me against this exact door at one point, and—

"Honey?"

I blink, looking up to see Shawn holding the door open for me. I smile, stepping through into his place, letting him shut it behind me.

"So, what do you think?"

I open my mouth only to cut myself off. How do I answer that question when this is supposed to be the first time I'm stepping foot in his home, when it's actually the second? Granted, I'm a lot more sober this time than I was the last time I was here. And it isn't late at night. It's the evening, actually. We're planning to make dinner here and have a night in, at his home for once, instead of a random hotel in a random city.