Euan raises the ring to his lips and kisses the center stone, heavy-lidded eyes never looking away from me. “You’ve made me the happiest man.”
I grin and take his hand, fiddling with the ring, twisting it idly back and forth. My smile slowly slips away as tears dot my eyes. “I wish that’s how it really went.”
“I wish we were really getting married,” he quips.
And god, not only does he tell the best fucking jokes, but he has the best fuckingideas. “Why not?” I reply. “Lesh get married!”
He hums. I’m not sure if that means ‘I didn’t hear you’, ‘you’re too drunk to make life-changing decisions’, or ‘that’s an excellent idea, you’re so smart, Alex’. Then he cups my cheek. The band of the engagement ring is slightly cool compared to his warm palm. He leans forward slowly.
I can dodge if I want to. I’d probably smack into the wall or fall underneath the table, but it’d be easy enough to escape.
I definitely do not want to.
I meet him in the middle, pressing my lips against his. His tongue slips into my mouth in a careful exploration. My eyes droop shut as I grip the front of his shirt with both hands. Everything else fades away as I melt into him.
And that kiss is the last thing I remember.
Chapter Four: Euan
Everything hurts and I deeply regret touching even a drop of alcohol last night. It’s been so long since I really indulged that I forgot I'm not twenty-one anymore. Anything stronger than a few beers causes a day-long hangover. Not that I have anywhere to go today. I can mope in bed and nurse my pounding head and broken heart for an entire fucking week if I want.
Except I’m not alone.
The first thing I notice is the weight on my arm when I try to lift it. The next thing is the pins and needles stabbing my nerves when I try to move. I freeze and clench my jaw against the new, different pain added to my growing list.
Breathing in through my nose, I focus on everything else I feel. A warm cheek pressed against my chest. Not skin to skin, so I’m not completely naked. Underneath the fluffy comforter I also feel the slight discomfort of stiff jeans. I’ve never been so happy to have fallen asleep in my clothes.
Yes, Ithoughtabout fucking a random stranger last night, but that was before we really started drinking. And maybe quite a while after, when all those shots drowned out mynormal reservations. Imbibing a little liquid courage before a one-night stand is fine, but getting dead drunk was a step too far for both of us.
My partner also seems to be dressed. Now that my arm is waking up again, I can feel the thin cotton of his button-down shirt, and the tips of my fingers brush against a leather belt. Good, we’re both decent enough to have a calm conversation once he wakes up.
I have no idea how long that will take because he seems absolutely dead to the world. Even when I shift my arm, he doesn’t so much as twitch. His warm breath ghosts against my face and chest, confirming he’s at least alive. And that we had far, far too many drinks last night, because he still smells vaguely of alcohol and sugary syrup.
I peel one eye open to confirm the man snuggled against me is who I think it is. All I see is messy blond curls, but that’s enough. I relax back into the bed, my eyes drifting shut as my hold tightens on Alex.
I should let him go. Wake him up. Put some distance between us. Have a proper conversation to see how much he remembers about last night, since my own memory is foggy at best. I remember his big blue eyes gazing up at me. His perfect pink lips shaping the words ‘will you marry me.’ A kiss soaked in peach liqueur.
The images that follow don’t quite make sense. Someone telling us “You make such a cute couple!” The giggling, high energy of a crowd. Fumbling for my ID. Grinning as I pulled Alex close to me, though he’d already practically climbed into my lap.
But I don’t know the order of those events, or if they’re even real. The memories get hazier as I try to focus on them in the same way a dream fades after waking. Maybe theywerea dream. Or maybe I’m dreaming now.
The persistent throb of the hangover quickly disproves that theory. Then Alex shifts on top of me, accidentally digging his knee into my bladder.
I grunt and instinctively pull away from him. This time, the movement is enough to jostle him awake.
His red-gold eyelashes flutter as he blinks them open, those big blue eyes unfocused. He rubs his face with the back of his hand and when he looks at me again, it’s with a little more recognition. “Euan?”
It comes out a little too much like ‘Yoon’, but his sleepy voice is too adorable, so I instantly forgive him. “Good morning.” My throat is so parched that the two simple words come out as a raspy drawl. “I have to go to the bathroom. Don’t go anywhere, okay?”
He nods and rolls away so I can get out from under him. He tucks one hand under the pillow and the other under his cheek and seems to fall back asleep within seconds.
When I return from the bathroom, I expect him to be sleeping, but he’s sitting upright on the bed. He still looks a bit dazed, like he’d rather burrow under the covers like a little forest animal hibernating for the winter, but he’s forcing himself to act human.
“So,” he begins, then licks his lips.
I grab a water bottle from the mini fridge and bring it back to him.
He uncaps it and takes several slow, careful sips, then sets it on the nightstand. “So, last night, we um …”
