How I Found You (now published so sample only)

Chapter 3 - How to create the worst misunderstandings

Chapter 3 – How to create the worst misunderstandings

Aria awoke with a groan. She clutched at her head that seemed determined to continue its pounding. Opening crusty eyes to bright sunlight had her snapping them shut again. She wiggled her toes beneath her blanket and felt glad that at least that didn't hurt.

She slowly rolled out of bed making grunts worthy of a caveman. Staggering into her bathroom, she managed to find the toilet and turn on the shower without too much disaster.

The warm water slicing against her skin soothed her, until it turned icy cold. With a screech that thudded painfully through her head, she jumped out and grabbed a towel. At least she now felt awake!

She dried off and dressed, hoping to be swift, but feeling as if it took her hours. She stumbled down the stairs with a mournful moan and tumbled inelegantly into the kitchen.

The note on the bench stopped her. She picked it up and stared at the obscure piece of paper. She squinted her eyes to try to read it through.

"Aria, my hangover cure is in the fridge. Drink it quickly. It will purge your stomach so stay near the sink."

She turned to the fridge, never once wondering who had sent the note. She stared at the sludge looking drink suspiciously, before rereading the note. If this made her feel better, than she was certainly willing to try the drink.

With a wince, she lifted the glass to her lips. She couldn't believe that it smelt worse than it looked. She grasped her nose and quickly skulled the whole glass.

"Disgusting!' she muttered, as she poked her tongue out to try to get rid of the taste.

Her stomach gurgled uncomfortably; she clutched it as a pain like no other burnt through her. Nausea engulfed her next and she rushed to the sink. Exactly as the note had warned, her stomach heaved and she retched nastily. She was adding this up to be one of the worst moments of her life, as she continued to bring up her unknown stomach contents.

As the heaving began to recede, she heard the doorbell. She wiped her mouth on a dishtowel, and with another anguished moan, she made her way to the door.

She slowly opened it, surprised to find it locked, when she knew that she hadn't locked it last night. Seeing Flynn standing there with a concerned look began to flare her anger to life.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

"Did you drink the hangover cure?" he asked quickly.

"That was yours?" she looked at him warily.

"Yes, I came over last night to talk to you."

"Your cure doesn't work. I swear that I feel worse." She glared at him.

"It takes about ten minutes after the vomiting, and then you'll feel as right as rain." He assured her.

"Right," she grouched, as she rubbed her forehead to try to quiet the pounding. "Just tell me what you want, so you can go away." She waved an unsteady hand at him.

"What do you remember about last night?" he asked with hesitation and she frowned.

What could she remember? He anger flared at the reminder of him refusing to let her have her kitten. She came home, and spoke with Lara. At least she remembered why she had started drinking now; thinking about James often made her do crazy things. She couldn't recall Flynn turning up at all, so she realised that she must have drunk a lot last night.