I don't know how long I'm unconscious, but I come to on a couch, staring up at Dirk the Shirtless Man. He doesn't look real. Much too good-looking. And he looks familiar, too.

I rub my eyes. "I'm seeing things," I say.

"You passed out. Here. Drink some water." He slips his hand under my neck and lifts my shoulders slightly off the couch. With his other hand he gently puts a glass of a water up to my lips. I take a sip. "Slowly. You're pretty dehydrated."

I steal ...