Strangers to Lovers-A ChrisMD Fanfiction.

Chapter Seventeen: Confessions.

Chelsea's P.O.V

As the sun shone through the hotel window, casting a silhouette upon my figure, I groaned. Sitting up in bed, I rubbed my eyes before placing a hand to my head, which was thumping might I add. I didn't know it was possible for me to have a hangover with the amount I drunk last night, but then I remembered the shots of tequila I downed. That explains it.

Looking to the side of me, I saw that the bed was empty, besides a few cheeky snacks that I devoured last night before falling asleep. Chris clearly didn't come back to the room last night. Checking my phone to see if he'd left me any messages, I began panicking when there was not one message. All of a sudden, I started to feel nauseous, not knowing whether it was panic over wondering where Chris stayed last night or the alcohol settled in my stomach. He wouldn't have stayed with Shannon, would he? I mean, they were really chatty last night...

Shaking that ludicrous thought from my head, I knew that before I could function, I needed a strong coffee in my system. Luckily, our hotel room supplied us with a cafetiere, so I could make a decent coffee and didn't have to take a walk to the nearest Starbucks.

Dragging my sluggish body from the very comfortable bed, I stumbled over to the coffee machine, placing one of the pods into the top and a mug underneath the stream, collecting the caffeinated liquid gold. Whilst my coffee was being made, I heard the door to my room being knocked. Confused, I walked over to the door, pulling it open to reveal Chris, looking a little dishevelled as if he'd just woken up.

"Morning." He mumbled, forcing a smile onto his face.

Ignoring him, I walked away from the door, not giving Chris verbal permission he could enter but he did anyway. Picking up my coffee, I added a dash of milk and a couple of sugars before carrying it back over to the bed, my gaze falling to the view out of the window. "Where have you been?" I asked, still refusing to look at the man I was in love with.

"I, uh, the party ended really late and I was quite drunk so I just decided to get another room..." He told me, taking a seat at the end of the bed as I felt it dip beneath me. "I knew you'd have been sleeping and I didn't want to risk making too much noise and waking you up."

"With her, were you?" I spat, the mere thought of those two potentially being with each other increasing the nauseous feeling within me.

"What?" He pondered, until it clicked who I was referring to. "No!" He exclaimed. "Why would you even think that?"

"You didn't call, you didn't text..." I pointed out, finally making eye-contact with him. "You could have been dead for all I knew!"

Sighing, he nodded his head. "I know, and I'm sorry for that. I never meant to worry you." He admitted, edging closer to me but he could sense I wasn't in the mood. "I guess I was just a little pissed at your reaction to me talking to Shannon last night..."

"Do you think I overreacted?" I asked, eager to find out what his answer was going to be.

"A little." He responded, igniting a small fire in my body. I didn't want to get into an argument, but I knew this conversation was heading that way. "I was simply talking to Shannon as a friend. Ex's can still be friends, you know? Plus, we still share a cat together. I still like to know how Smudge is doing."

"I'm not disputing that ex's can't still be friends after a breakup, and I appreciate that you and Shannon still share a bond with Smudge, but it felt as if the two of you were rubbing my faces in it."

"How were we rubbing your face in it?!" He asked in annoyance, clearly starting to get a bit frustrated towards me. "You're acting as if I spent the whole night with Shannon. I did speak to other people as well, you know?"