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Spin the Bottle



Chapter 9, Part 1: What Happens at a Party…

I woke up the next morning to the sunlight beaming through the windows – the brightness stinging my eyes.  My face was plastered against the hard, cold wooden floor and drool was pouring out of my mouth. 

But I didn’t want to move.

Even with the chilly air escaping through the cracks in the windows, my body was warm, completely engulfed by Miles.  We were lying side by side, curled up together, with his strong, muscular arm wrapped around my waist.  I could feel his warm breath against my shoulder and the faint sound of him snoring in my ear. 

This was the first time that we had ever fallen asleep together, and the fact that we were spooning and wrapped up in each other like a married couple made it that much more strange.  But I liked the way it felt. 

I reached up to wipe some of the wetness away from my mouth, separating our interlaced fingers.  Miles must have felt me pull away a little because he nuzzled his head into the nape of my neck and pulled my waist closer to his torso like a pillow that had escaped his grasp.  He was still snoring, but I didn’t mind…even if it did sound like a raging bumblebee was circling my ear. 

It suddenly hit me that I didn’t text my mom last night with some sort of explanation as to why I wouldn’t be coming home, especially when I told her that I would be.  And that made my stomach drop.  I had never been out past curfew – not once.  She was probably worried sick. 

I nudged Miles a few times with my elbow to wake him up.  “Miles?” I whispered. 

He didn’t move. 

“Miles?” I said again flatly, in my normal voice this time.  But the snoring continued.  Rolling my eyes, I nudged him once more with my bony elbow. 

He finally shook awake and shot straight up in a startle.  I rolled over and looked up at him at him from the floor.    

“Holy crap, Rach!” he complained.  “You scared the shit outa me!” 

I laughed when I realized how ridiculous his hair looked all messy and sticking straight up.  But who was I kidding?  Miles somehow managed to even make bedhead look sexy. 

“Quit being a grump,” I fired back, flashing him a half smile.  “You sleep like a rock.” 

“I do not!” Miles laughed, as he reached down and started squeezing at my cheeks.  “Maybe you’re just really comfy.” 

I blushed, but I hoped that he didn’t notice.  I swatted his hands away and then sat up, combing my fingers through my tangled mess of hair.  I probably looked awful.  And it sucked that Miles had to see me in all of my hot mess glory. 

I turned over and tried to see if I could actually make out my reflection in an old steel bucket that was resting by the door.  But when Miles noticed what I was doing, he put an end to it quickly. 

“You look fine,” he said as he got up and stretched out.  He threw his arms over his head and twisted from side to side.  I could see the muscles popping through his shirt, and it took me a second to refocus. 

I shot him a flat look.  “I’m a mess…” 

Miles shook his head.  “You?” he scoffed.  “Never.  You’re beautiful.” 

My heart started to flutter a little bit and the blood returned to my cheeks.  Did he just say what I think he said?  I found it hard to believe, though – especially with mascara smudged under my eyes and my hair full of tangles. 

“Miles, I never told my mom where I was last night…” I said worriedly, changing the subject. 

His face suddenly went pale.  “Shit!” he exclaimed, slapping his hand against his forehead, making a “splat” sound.  “Umm…alright, I’m going to run to the truck and grab your stuff.  We’ll get changed and have to think of an excuse on the way home.” 

He started to reach in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the keys to his truck.  He whipped them around a few times on his finger and started towards the door of the shed. 

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Lucy Haleas Rachel
Jeremy Sumpteras Miles

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