Weight hits my middle. I open my eyes, then snap them shut. I toss my arm across my face, blocking the sunlight that pours from the window. My head is pounding to the beat of my heart, each breath I take hurts worse. The bed shifts, and my eyes pop open. I cringe, hoping my hangover is just playing tricks on me. Maybe I’m still drunk. God, please let me be drunk! I peek to my left, Hayze is lying on his back, and his arm is resting on his bare chest.
“Hayze!” I exclaim, shaking him. “Hayze, wake up!”
His eyes peel open. He focuses on my face and smiles as his eyes close again. He turns on his side and tugs me closer. I relax as his arms engulf me. For a second I stop freaking out, then I remember I’m in his bed after a night of drinking. I pat down my body and let out a sigh of relief when I feel clothing.
“We didn’t do anything last night, did we?” I peek up at him.
Smiling he shakes his head. “No, you all but raped me in the parking lot, but I stopped you,” he chuckles.
“Did not,” I say, willing it to be true. The night is fuzzy and the more I learn, the more satisfied I am with that.
“Whose shirt is this?” I ask, pointing to the foreign white shirt on my body.
“Mine.”
“What? Why am I wearing your shirt? Why am I in your bed?” I raise up, glancing around the room. He watches me in amusement as I frantically stand and search for my clothes.
“You threw up on yours. Keep your voice down, would ya?” He laughs.
“Did you change me?” I ask, horrified.
“No, Lea did.”
“Okay,” I sigh, “Okay. That’s fine.” I relax after he tells me that. Maybe he’s kind of a gentleman after all. Maybe.
“Jesus, when girls wake up next to me, they usually are not this upset,” he says, grinning.
“Like you would know! You probably sneak out while they’re still asleep.” I huff, crossing my arms across my chest. I know he’s only teasing me, but I don’t like that he brought up other girls right now. And I really don’t like that it bothers me.
“Yeah, I guess you have a point. But that shit stops now, okay?” He stands beside me and rubs his hands up my arms.
I glance around the room, then to him. My brow arches. “Okay?”
“You don’t sound so convinced,” he says.
“About what?” I inhale a sharp breath, knowing what could come. My memory is fuzzy, but I remember the beginning of the night when we talked in his car. The unbelievable thing is I hope my prediction is right. My life has been paved for nineteen years. I have a certain image to uphold, and the unpredictable guy sitting before me promises everything but my old life.
“About this, me and you,” he says. He waves his finger between us. I don’t respond with words. Instead, I grab his shoulders and lean in to plant a shy kiss on his lips. His smug grin is satisfied as I pull back.