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I feel too keyed up to sleep, but lying down does sound nice, and the sheets are cool under my bare legs when I give in and sit down, so maybe it’s not a terrible idea.
I kick the covers down, and Levi leans over to pull them up around me, but before he can, I grab his arm and drag him down on top of me.
He blinks for a second and then pulls away quickly. “Fuck.”
“Sorry,” I say with a little chuckle, even though I’m not.
He presses his lips together. He looks frustrated and tense, and I half expect him to leave and decide it’s not worth it to put up with me when I’m like this. It wouldn’t surprise me. They didn’t sign up for babysitting when they said they would watch me, and if I choked on my own vomit or whatever in the night, it would be my own fault and one less problem for them to worry about.
I grit my teeth, waiting for Levi to shove off the bed and leave me, but he doesn’t. Instead he moves to the other side of the mattress with a sigh, putting some space between our bodies as he settles his head on one of the pillows.
When he speaks, his voice is a low mutter. “It’s going to be a long fucking night.”
22
Despite the events of last night, I wake up pretty early in the morning.
The sun is shining through the window, falling right on my face the way it does when it’s too early, and I take my time letting consciousness wash over me, processing everything. My head is much, much clearer than it was when I fell asleep, and I open my eyes slowly, waiting for the headache of being hungover to hit me.
The light slices right into my head through my eyes like I knew it would, but other than that, the hangover isn’t as bad as I expected. I feel more alert than I did before that’s for sure, and I can tell that awful feeling of being high and out of control is gone. Thank fuck for that. The feeling of wanting to crawl out of my own skin was horrible, and I can only remember it in flashes.
I breathe a sigh of relief at feeling normal and then yawn. It’s still early, and I fully plan to go back to sleep for a while before I have to go downstairs and face the guys. I can only imagine how that will go down, considering I don’t know what I might have said to them while I was rolling. I stretch slowly and then shift like I’m going to turn over and go back to sleep when two things hit me in rapid succession.
The first is that I’m naked.
Totally, one hundred percent naked.
I’m not even wearing underwear, and
I know I put some on when I was getting ready to go out last night. My heart kicks into overdrive, and then I notice the second thing.
Levi is in bed next to me.
He’s asleep, lips parted slightly as he breathes deeply and evenly, and my mind races alongside my heart, trying to put together what the fuck might have happened last night.
I can barely remember getting back to the house, really. I remember Sloan being angry and them getting me into the car, but other than that, it’s all kind of a blur. My stomach rolls when I think about it too hard, and I swallow, forcing myself to take a deep breath.
“What the fuck?” I say out loud, and that’s enough to wake up Levi.
He blinks quickly, face scrunched up as he yawns, and any other time I might have thought it was a cute look on him.
Any other time when I’m not freaking out about holes in my memory and being naked as fuck.
“What the fuck happened?” I demand, sitting up and wrapping an arm over my tits so he doesn’t get any more of the free show he’s been enjoying for however long.
“Nothing.” His voice is rough with sleep, and he reaches up to run the fingers of one hand through his hair.
I narrow my eyes and search his face. He looks a little groggy with sleep, but his expression holds no hint of guilt or deception. Still, I don’t know whether I believe him or not. I don’t think I do.
“You just laid there all night and didn’t touch me?” I ask. “Yeah, right. Why am I naked then?”
“Because you didn’t want to put your fucking clothes on,” he says, sounding exasperated. “Look under the covers.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
I keep my eyes on him for a second, but then I do as he says, lifting the covers to look. He’s not naked. The nice button-down shirt he had on from last night is gone, as are his shoes and socks, but he’s still wearing his dark, expensive-looking jeans.
