One Hot Night

Hangovers and Sexting

I wake with a start. My heart hammers in my chest, racing as if there's something wrong. My mouth is dry and my lips verge on cracking if I don't get balm on them pronto. I roll off the bed, my feet hitting the floor with a soft thud, and the instant I'm upright I regret it. The acidic tang hits my taste buds and something bubbles up from my gut. I gag and race to the bathroom. I barely make it to the toilet in time to retch up the entire contents of my stomach.

The disgusting sight makes me vomit again. After flushing away the evidence, I settle my ass on the cold tile floor. My head pounds. My skin's damp. I need a shower, aspirin, and a tall glass of water.

Hangovers. What a fucking drag.

Peeling off my underwear, I start the shower spray and step inside, careful not to move too fast or lose my balance. Hot water pelts my skin, bringing me back to almost human. My brain fog clears as steam fills the small room. My body aches, muscles I rarely use tight and sore. Cam. My thoughts drift back to last night, and all the fun we had in his bedroom. A shiver runs up my spine despite the warmth of my shower. Fuck me. I know I shouldn't want it, but I could go for another round with him. His mouth on my body, mine on his. Learning what drives him mad, what pushes him over the edge. His grunts. Groans. Taste. We could take turns making each other come. Okay, maybe I want more than another night. I don't usually do repeats because it encourages feelings, but once with Cam was not enough.

Too bad I have a date tonight with someone else.

I slam my eyes shut as a wave of shame shuts down the erotic play of my imagination. This. This right here is why I can't have nice things. Maybe this is my sign. I thought I could try a relationship, that maybe I could be fucking normal for once. Obviously I was wrong. I shake off the anxiety building at this crossroad. I'm tired. Hungover. My head still pounds. I refuse to deal or make any major life decisions in this shower. My stomach grumbles as I turn off the water and step in front of the sink. I could go for a greasy burger and a soda right now.

I finish drying off, comb out my hair, and then search for my cell to get an Uber. My car is still parked at the apartment, and I have—shit! My eyes land on the time. "Shit, shit, shit!" That cannot be right! It's almost time for my date. Waiting in my inbox is a text from Preston reminding me he'll pick me up for dinner. Fuck.

Forty minutes later I sit strapped into a stranger's Prius, my knee bouncing with the speed of my pulse as we weave through an unnecessary amount of traffic. Fuck. I should be in my car and heading home by now. It's a Sunday for fuck's sakes.

"Sorry," my driver, Mike, calls out for what feels like the hundredth time. "Looks like they've shut it down." He points ahead and my eyes catch on the flashing lights in the distance. An SUV flipped. A half a dozen smashed cars. Emergency vehicles everywhere. The enclosed space of the vehicle suddenly feels too confining. Suffocating. We move forward another few feet, then stop. Trapped. The urge to bail is immediate.

Bile rises in my throat, but it's not from my hangover. "Here's fine," I mumble and reach for the door, popping it open before Mike is able to pull over. Doesn't matter. We're barely moving as it is, and I doubt he prefers I stay to puke in his car. My feet hit the pavement, and I draw in a long breath. Still, it's not enough. Heat prickles my clammy skin. The flash of lights and blare of sirens assaults my senses. I can't get away fast enough. I barely register the blare of horns from annoyed drivers as I cut through the stalled traffic and cross to the other side. If I felt better I'd flip them off, but the only thing my brain can process right now is getting away.

I duck inside the first fast food joint I come across, order a burger, fries, and soda before sliding into an empty booth. I eat as though my life depends on it, and my pulse finally slows. The sheen of sweat covering my body cools at the arctic setting of the restaurant's air conditioning and I shiver. I check my GPS and conclude the apartment is only a half mile walk from here. Totally do-able once I stop freaking out.