“Ughhh,” I groan as I squint my eyes open to find the culprit that has awoken me – curtains pulled open on a massive window, letting beams of sunlight shine right on my face.  “What the hell – “

I freeze, my eyes still on the window, my right hand clutching a very soft black duvet.  My curtains turn my room into a cave, purposely because I used to work nights, and I sure as hell don’t have that massive window in my bedroom. And a black duvet? Suddenly, I feel panic and anxiety over not knowing where the hell I am. How did I end up somewhere I have never been before?

I slowly take in my surroundings: gray walls, black tile floors (who the hell has tile in the bedroom?), modern and sleek black furniture, a huge TV hanging on the wall. No pictures, no decorations, nothing personal. I finally force my head to turn to the right, taking in the massive king sized bed that I’m lying in. My body freezes again when my eyes come to rest on the figure lying next to me.

Oh no, I did not.

No.

I am 27 years old. I have not ended up in some random guy’s bed in well over five years. Didn’t I leave that behind when I graduated from college? Well except for that one time after my failed engagement but that was to be expected right?

I stare at the man lying next to me. He looks about the same age as me, short light brown hair that is sticking out like crazy, and a scruffy beard. The blanket is around his waist, showing off a very nicely toned chest and torso and a tattoo of a cross on his upper arm. He seems to be very attractive although his mouth is gaping open and a slight snore is escaping from his fluttering nostrils.

I cannot, for the life of me, remember him. I don’t remember meeting him, I don’t remember leaving with him, and I sure as hell don’t remember anything happening in the bedroom with him (which is a shame since it’s been so damn long since anything has happened in any bedroom for me).  I’m sure my pounding headache from this god-awful hangover isn’t helping my memory either.

Well I could lay here all day trying to rack my brain for information about this mystery man but I’d rather not have to awkwardly introduce myself to pretty boy. I take a quick peek under the blanket to confirm what I already know in my head. I silently slide my legs over the side of the bed and place them on the cool black tile, instantly sending a chill up my naked body. Again, who the hell has tile in their bedroom?

My eyes are searching, rather frantically for my clothes. I find my discarded panties and my skirt and quickly pull both on. My heels are lying right at my feet but I’m not sure my shaky legs can handle them right now. I slowly stand, becoming fully aware of my bare upper body and extremely conscious of the sleeping, naked man three feet away from me.

I walk around the bed and find my bra but still no shirt and no purse. I take a deep breath, glance around and find a white t-shirt thrown haphazardly on the floor. That will have to do. I pull it over my head roughly, grab my heels, and quietly walk towards the bedroom door.

Just as I reach the door, I hear a laugh that pulls my hand back from the knob. I know that laugh all too well and it flings me back to the night before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know man,” I sigh as I lift my beer up to my lips. “I’m just not really feeling going to any bars tonight.”

“Come on J,” my best friend says exasperatedly. “That’s all you’ve been saying for the past six months. ‘I don’t wanna do this, I don’t wanna do that.’ Dude, I know breaking up with Jess was hard but life goes on. You can’t let her keep you down. Plus, you might meet someone tonight.”

I roll my eyes and take another swig from my beer. “I’m not trying to meet anyone right now and I’m especially not trying to meet anyone at any sleezy club you drag me to.”

“Fine,” Trace stands up to go retrieve two more beers from the kitchen. “Don’t meet anyone, but at least come out with us tonight. Have a few drinks, socialize, maybe get on the dancefloor at some point.”

I know there’s no point in arguing. I always give in to Trace. “I’ll go but I’m driving myself and not having more than three drinks. You stay there as late as you want but I’m not trying to walk in the door at 5 am.”

“Whatever dude, at least you’re getting out of this house on a Friday night,” Trace says as he tosses a beer at me and plops down on the couch, his attention returning to the Lakers game on the TV.

Three hours later

“Hey heeey!”

“Someone’s had a bit much to drink, huh J?” Elyse asks me with a smirk on her face.

“Nah, I’m good. Just having some fun tonight,” I answer as I sway back and forth, standing entirely too close to her as she sits in the booth. “When did you get here?”

“About a half hour ago, been watching Trace dancing with that girl wondering when or if he’ll notice I’m here,” Elyse says now with no smirk in sight.

I turn around too fast and have to brace myself on the table behind me. I find Trace easily, grinding against some blond on the dancefloor. The guy will never learn.  “I’ll go get him.”

I ignore Elyse’s protests and make my way through the bustling crowd, managing to keep my drink splashing to a minimum. I finally reach them and throw an arm around Trace.

“Hey buddy, how ya feeling,” Trace shouts in my ear as his hands grip the girl’s hips as she grinds her ass into him.

“Elyse is here,” I blurt out, figuring I’d save my vocal chords the trouble of having a full on shouting conversation before telling him what I really came out here to tell him.

Trace’s eyes bulge and his hands automatically drop from the girl who doesn’t even seem to notice. “What? What is she doing here? When did she get here?” Trace fires rapid questions at me, clearly not comprehending that I’m entirely too drunk to register and answer all his questions. I shrug and point to the booth that we had occupied earlier in the night.

Trace pushes past me and storms over to where Elyse is sitting. I know better than to follow. No guy wants to be involved in the argument that is surely about to happen between the two of them. The blond turns around finally and lands her eyes on mine, giving me a seductive smile.

She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls my head down so she can speak into my ear. “Where’s your friend?”

I shrug and point in the general direction that Trace stormed off in. She smiles again, “Hopefully he went to get me that drink he owes me. Come dance with my friend,” she winks at me and grabs my hand, pulling me deeper into the gyrating crowd.

There’s a group of about five girls dancing, two of them have men hungrily at their backs grinding into them. The one who pulled me over here seems to be the sluttiest of the group which is fitting seeing as Trace chose her to dance with. She walks right up to a brunette with her back towards us and wraps an arm around her neck, shouting something into her ear. The brunette turns around and I automatically register a pretty face, big tits, nice legs.

She offers a surprised smile, completely different than her friend’s seductive grin. She’s holding a colorful, girly drink in her manicured hand and uses her other hand to pull her slutty friend’s hand off of her.

“Hi,” she shouts and offers a small wave.

“Hey,” I shout back and give her a quick smile.

Slutty friend seems impatient. She grabs my forearm and pushes the brunette by the small of her back until we are smushed together. “Dance!”

Brunette rolls her eyes but keeps a smile on her face. She pulls back slightly and shakes her head. I look at her confused. I know I’m not some god but I’m a pretty attractive guy and I like to think I don’t come off as a creep, so why doesn’t she want to dance with me?

Now my competitiveness is kicking in. I can’t be turned down by someone right now. My first time out, meeting someone new in months and I’m going to get turned down? I don’t think so. I notice that her drink is nearly empty so I point to it and nod towards the bar. “Let me buy you a drink,” I shout, close enough for her to hear.

She gets that hesitant look on her face again but I don’t wait for her to decide. I grab her free hand gently and lightly pull her behind me, toward the bar. There are two empty seats at the bar so I guide us over to them, pulling a bar stool out for her. She slides onto one and places her wristlet on the bar.

“What are you drinking,” I ask as I slide in next to her.

“Well this is a sex on the beach that was taken away from Melissa,” she laughs as she swishes the nearly empty drink around. “But I’ll take a Jamison and ginger.”

I stare at her for a moment. This girl is drinking whiskey? I’ve never had a girl ask me to buy her a whiskey drink before. “Whiskey, huh?”

She shrugs, “Yeah, not exactly lady-like but I’m not trying to impress.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what –“ I fade off, realizing I haven’t asked for her name.

“Sarah,” she supplies.

“Sarah,” I repeat. “I’ll tell you what Sarah; if you finish this drink I’ll be pretty damn impressed.” She smiles at me and I lean over the bar to get the bartender’s attention, ordering two tall Jamison and ginger ales.

Next thing I know, we’ve each had three drinks, two straight shots of whiskey, and a car bomb. A parade of pretty girls have come by to say goodnight to Sarah and give her hugs and kisses on the cheek.

“So I’m not gonna lie,” I slur to her. “I was pretty hurt you wouldn’t dance with me before.”

“Oh don’t take it personally, there’s just a lot of trashy guys in places like this,” she says matter of factly. “But you’ve proven to not be so trashy so if you’re still up to it…”

I smile down at her and take her hand in mine, throwing some cash on the bar. We end up dancing next to Trace and slutty friend and I vaguely remember Elyse being there earlier and figuring that Trace had up and left a long time ago. But Sarah’s soft laughter mixed with slutty friend’s high pitched, distinctive laugh pull me back to reality and I promise myself I’ll just enjoy the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Melissa’s here.”

I knew I recognized that laugh.

“Melissa is fucking here,” I say loudly to myself before realizing where I am. My head starts to pound harder in my temples and I lean my forehead against the door. So much for my quick and invisible morning-after disappearance. I wish I could even somewhat remember the layout of this house so I could better plan out my escape route.

I hear stirring in the bed behind me and glance back. He’s not awake but I’m not taking any chances. I’d rather confront my best friend of over twenty years and have to deal with her questions and embarrassing comments than have to re-introduce myself to pretty boy while standing in his bedroom in his t-shirt and a skirt, last night’s makeup all over my face, and my hair looking like who knows what.

I turn the knob and slide through the door.  I inch my way down the stairs, thankful this is a new house and it doesn’t seem to have any creaky floorboards. I find my purse lying on some bench at the end of the stairs. I grab it and check its contents. iPhone, some cash wadded up, my ID, a credit card, a house key. No car keys. Which would make sense if my mind wasn’t so clouded over and my head wasn’t pounding. Of course I don’t have my car keys because Melissa picked me up last night so I could have a night out and not have to worry about anything. Some designated driver she is.

I must have been standing here for a while but I’m startled when I turn and a big pitbull is running straight for me.

“Billy!” Someone shouts from the end of the hallway before erupting in laughter. “Are you afraid of dogs?”

The dog crashed into my legs, sending me a couple of steps backward, and was now busy licking my exposed legs. I look up, completely flustered and try to register the face, the body, the voice, anything familiar about this figure at the end of the hall.

“I guess not,” he laughs again as he shuffles over to me. “Trace.”

“Uh…hi,” I murmur. I realize he has his right hand outstretched so I shake his hand and mutter, “Sarah.”

“Well Sarah, did you enjoy your night,” he smirks and gives me a wink.

I ignore him. “Is Melissa here? I really have to get going,” I state impatiently.

“Melissa..?” Trace looks confused and scrunches up his forehead before seeming to remember the blond’s name who he most likely spent the night with last night. “Yeah, she’s in there. You’re her friend?”

I ignore him again, he just seems easy to ignore, and walk ‘in there’ in search of my best friend. I’m greeted with two more dogs crashing into me before I find her sprawled out on the couch in the living room, wearing nothing more than a long t-shirt.

“Sarah!” She jumps off the couch, completely surprised by my being there. “What are you doi-“ Her eyes run over me and she burst into laughter, clearly noticing how unkempt I appear and realizing that this is not one of those times I’ve come to fetch her from some unsuspecting bachelor’s house. “So you really did have some fun last night, huh? Did you meet Trace?”

“Melis, we have to go,” I say, ignoring her now. “I have that dress fitting for Lauren today.”

She doesn’t make a move to put any of her clothes on so I take the initiate and pick up all of her belongings, finding my shirt in the mix. “Here, get dressed. Please tell me your car is here.”

“Yeah, Trace drove it home last night,” she answers as she lifts the oversized t-shirt over her head, not a care in the world that she’s completely exposed right now. “You were getting a little frisky with his friend in the backseat.”

I find her purse and dig through it to find her car keys but they’re nowhere to be seen. Trace walks in just as Melissa gets herself covered up by her skimpy dress. I turn toward him, “Do you have her car keys?”

“Um, oh, yeah, somewhere…” He starts patting his jeans pockets but comes up empty. He disappears into the kitchen and returns holding the keys up in his hand.

“Thanks,” I grab the keys from his hand and start walking toward the front door. “Melissa, let’s go.”

“Sorry, she doesn’t have any manners when it comes this type of thing,” Melissa says with a giggle. “It was sooo nice meeting you last night, call me sometime,” she gives him a peck on the cheek and a wink and saunters over to me at the front door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dude, wake up.”

I groan. My body hates me right now. I hate me right now. The sunlight is pouring in through my now wide open curtains. My head is pulsating and the excess alcohol I consumed last night is swishing around in my stomach. Brennan is lying next to me, smothering my face with kisses.

“Look who you got to spend the night with bro,” Trace starts laughing hysterically and I reach for a pillow to cover my head with. It has an extremely feminine scent on it, shampoo mixed with an expensive smelling perfume. I’m surprised because it’s been forever since I’ve brought a woman home and shared my bed with her…

I finally pull the pillow away and squint my eyes at Trace. “Give me a minute, man,” I say groggily. Damn I haven’t drank that much in a long time.

Trace walks out of the room, calling Brennan after him. I slowly sit up in bed and throw the covers off of my lower body. I usually sleep in my boxers but I don’t think much about being naked. I make my way to the bathroom, brush my teeth, and pop two Advil in my mouth. I hop in the shower, happy to try to wash this horrible hangover away.

I pull on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. I’m tying my Nikes when Trace comes barging in saying something about going to IHOP for pancakes. I mumble a ‘yes’ and search around for my wallet, keys, and phone. Why is everything so scattered? I guess I’ve turned into one of those drunk people who throws their things about when returning home.

I grab a hoodie and make my way downstairs, ready to fill my stomach with some good grub.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So was she any good,” Trace asks me as the waitress sets down three different varieties of syrups for our pancakes.

“What?” I’m busy buttering my food.

Trace stops what he’s doing and stares at me. “C’mon dude, that chick you brought home last night. We could hear you guys all the way downstairs.”

“First of all, who is we? And second of all, what chick?”

“Well let’s just say after Elyse stormed off mad, we met a couple of friends and took them back to your place last night,” Trace says with an accomplished smile on his face.

“You brought someone home? What’s wrong with you, you have a girlfriend!”

“Oh relax, what Elyse doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Trace says with a wave of his hand. He turns serious when he sees the look on my face. “Look man, sorry. I know you were on the receiving end of cheating and that sucked but we’re different.”

I keep silent. I don’t understand people who cheat. If you’re not happy with the one you’re with just end it and do your thing but there’s no need to drag someone along and completely damage them. But I'm also not one to get involved in someone else's relationship.

“Look at least you got some last night.”

“I don’t remember last night, Trace.”

“At all?” He seems exasperated. “Damn that’s a shame. She was fucking hot. Her friend was a little hotter but when do I ever get to say I got the hotter chick?”

I’m searching my memory for any trace of this girl. I do remember buying a girl a drink but was it her? She didn’t seem like the type to go home with some random guy. Hell, she wouldn’t even dance with me.

“Well I guess that just means we gotta go out tonight and wish for the same luck,” Trace says with a laugh.

“That’s not gonna happen,” I say with a small smile and a shake of my head. “Did they spend the night?”

“Yeah…” Trace trails off. “I guess she snuck out of your room. I got to meet her again this morning, kinda bitchy and in a hurry to leave. I got her friend’s number though. We could call them?”

“Nah,” I take a bite of my pancakes. “You do whatever you want with her friend but I don’t need to be getting to know some girl I met at a club.”