Baking With Boys |✔

9. Apple Juice

I licked my parched lips and tried to ignore the burning in my throat. The room was getting chillier but I still felt thirsty. My throat yearned for a glass of water, but my body felt too heavy for me to get up and do something about it.

Yes, I was a lazy ass and I knew it.

Dreaming about the precious drops of liquid, I finally gave up and drifted back to sleep. Water could wait till morning. I shifted a little, and I felt another body pressed up behind me. Sighing at the warmth, I snuggled up with the body. A hand was pressed up against my back, and without thinking I pulled it towards me.

"Shit," someone whispered, but I was too groggy to think much of it. Grabbing the hand between my arms, I used it as a pillow, placing it under my head.

"Shit, shit, shit," I heard a series of muttering again, and I groaned. Trying to get away from the sound, I turned and buried my face in the warmth. Heat enveloped me with silence, and I sighed in contentment.

My consciousness slipped back and out again and again. Too tired, and wanting to stretch, I raised my leg, and plopped it over the body. My hand sneaked around the waist, and held the body tight.

The best position, I sighed as I got even more comfortable, enjoying the warmth and the closeness.

"Fuck it. " I felt the warmth leave and I let out a tortured groan. But almost immediately I felt myself lift up by a pair of arms. The hands kept me close, and I hugged the body,  wrapping my arms around the neck. My nose rubbed against the chest, inhaling the intoxicating and manly scent.

Someone gently laid me down on the bed, placing my head on the pillow. A soft sigh escaped my lips at the comfort, and I snuggled deeper into the bed. Suddenly the warmth left me, and I cried out, grasping the warm hand in despair. I pulled it towards me again, and the bed dropped low as the warmth returned.

"You're making it too hard for me..." I heard the whisper, spoken so softly in my ear, almost as if it was not meant to be heard.

My last thought was about the warm hand in my hand when I slowly drifted back to sleep.

I woke up feeling like that a truck had ran over me yesterday night. My head felt like it was a million times heavier and my bladder was about to explode. Running into the bathroom, I sighed in relief. At least the churning in my stomach was not enough to make me puke. Because I hated puking. It always felt like the world was going to end, when I did.

I looked into the mirror and exhaled loudly. My usually clear green eyes looked swollen and dull. Under-eye circles made me look like a panda as if I had not slept for weeks.

The hair band stretched as I took it out, and opened the red mane of my hair. They fell just below my breasts, one feature I was proud of. But today they looked like the bird's nest outside, more than anything.

Just the beauty effects of alcohol, I reprimanded myself.

Turning on the shower, I let the warm water fall on my skin. Even without thinking, I knew this was going to be one tough day.

After dressing up in shorts and a light pink tank top, I looked at the time. My eyes almost bulged out as I saw that it was already after twelve. The first thought that ran through my mind was,

Mom.

I quickly slipped on my slippers and rushed downstairs. They made a slapping noise as I descended, and I winced at the loud sound. My favorite slowed down as I heard noises coming from the drawing-room. I walked towards the room, and the voice got clearer.