The Escort {Ziall Horlik}- Discontinued

Chapter 7

Niall's Point of View

I wake to a gruesome headache, an incessant beeping that can't seem to stop, and no recollection of the night previous. What bugs me more is that I know I have to be at the office today, but I don't care to get up. What worries me more though is that I heard a groan come from next to me, and can feel the bed move slightly.

I have kept my eyes closed knowing that they are not ready to face the sunlight, as I more than likely did not think to shut the blinds in my obvious drunken stupor last night. But I can feel that I'm only in boxers, and there's someone in bed with me... finally it all clicks and I'm jumping up, afraid of what I've done.

My eyes spring open as I do this, and I am instantly blinded by the sunlight that I already knew from past experiences would be there. After I get over the bright lighting, I see a shirtless Zayn sitting up in my bed, rubbing fists in his eyes.

WAIT! A SHIRTLESS ZAYN, IN MY BED, WHAT THE H.ELL HAPPENED!!!!!

"Zayn?" I question, unsure if I'm hallucinating or if the tan, 6-pack-wielding, beautiful work of art sitting in my bed is actually there. This could just be a very interesting dream.

"Morning" he answers with a yawn and a stretch of his arms above his head, before he crashes back into the pillow behind him. "How'd you sleep?"

And now I know this is not a dream, maybe more like a nightmare. A real live nightmare that I have to face because I was p.issed drunk last night.

I can't even truly process what he's said as the sheets slip down his body and I see the edge of his boxers. Only his boxers, no pants to dissipate my worries.

"D-um-did we d-do a-anything last n-night?" I stutter out, and slam my eyes closed. I fist my hair in frustration and am very afraid of the answer.

I rub harsh circles into my eyes and groan in frustration as Zayn takes his time to answer my all-important question. Maybe he DOESN'T REMEMBER? No, no, no, No, NO! What happened?

"Nah Blondie, you crashed before we got here. Puked all over yourself too, got some on me as well. That's why we're not dressed." Zayn informs me as I let out a sigh in relief. "Not that I didn't want to tap that a.ss of yours, cause I did. But my mom did teach me manners!"

"What a relief!" I don't even care that he poked fun at my mum or me. I'm just so happy I didn't sleep with him! It's not that he's not attractive, cause trust me, he's sex on legs, but I don't want to sleep with someone, as in doing the nasty, without properly knowing and dating them first.

"What don't think I'm good in bed Blondie?" Zayn looks offended but I brush it off as playful banter.

"Nah, just don't roll that way." I explain, but he gives me a quizzical look.

"You mean you're not gay?" I almost want to burst out laughing at that.

"No, I mean I don't do the sleeping around bit. I've got to know you well and be with you for you first."

"You want love."

"No." I protest, but he smirks devilishly.

"That wasn't a question. You're one of those saps whose into the whole no s.ex before marriage gig but in this case it's no s.ex before a relationship gig." He explains my thoughts almost perfectly, but I feel this intense need to rebuttal it.

"No! I just don't want to sleep around and catch an STD or something. I want to play it smart and not shove myself out there like a prostitute."

"You trying to say something Blondie?" Zayn gets up from the bed at this and his glorious legs are on view. His boxers are sort of short and reveal milky skinned, muscular and toned legs that make my abdomen clench in want. There's a light dusting of hair that is just enough to portray his manliness perfectly.