Between Us

chapter eighteen

18

  Why does my fucking head hurt so damn bad?

  I groan as I sit up, the covers sliding off my chest. I look to my right and see Liam sleeping on his stomach, snoring softly, still wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Why is he in here with me? On top of the covers?  It's not like I mind that he's here, but he was so against sharing the bed with me. Morals and all that good shit.

  I flip the blankets back and slide out of the bed, my head pounding. I see two Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand, so I take it and gulp down the water. I try to make my way to the bathroom, but obviously it couldn't be that easy.

  I just had to trip over a pile of my clothes and tumble to the ground loudly. "Damn it!" I whine, not even trying to get up. This is definitely not helping my headache.

  "Tare?"

  "Down here. On the ground." I close my eyes and rub my temples.

  "So that's what woke me up. You know, you've got to stop waking me like this," Liam jokes. I hear him get up and come around the side of the bed. He stands over me with his hands on his hips. "Whatcha doing down there?"

  "Wishing I could die. Or at least go back in time and not drink whatever I drank last night," I say, attempting to sit up. Liam helps me to my feet.

  "When you called me last night, your brother took the phone and said something about fifteen shots of tequila and some beer?"

  I nod slowly and scrunch up my face. "Feels about right."

  "Well, having had my fair share of horrible hangovers, I know what helps. It's starts with showering, because no offense, but you kind of stink," he says, wincing.

  I cringe. "I'm so sorry."

  Liam shakes his head. "It's not that bad," he says, but I can tell he's just trying to make me feel better.

  "Yes it is," I mutter. "It's awful."

  He can't help but laugh a little. "Go to the bathroom and start the shower, I'll bring your bag."

  I finally finish my journey to bathroom that I originally started before my clumsy ass ruined it. I turn on the shower and glance at myself in the mirror. Then I do a double take.

  Please tell me that I'm not seeing my own reflection.

  Because what I see is straight up horrifying.

  My hair has three different knots in it. My mascara is smudged all over my eyes. My face is blotchy. And there's drool down the front of my tank top that I don't remember changing into.

  Is this how I'm going to woo Liam Evans?

  Okay, I did not just think that. It's just a stupid crush, remember inner me?

  Sure. If you say so. But you still look like...this.

  "Here's the bag your friend brought with you last night," Liam says, holding out a duffle bag. My friend? Honestly, I don't remember anything from last night.