Fortuitous || Jack Steele [1]

fifty nine

Madelyn's POV.

I feel like a brick wall ran into me-no, wait... I ran into a brick wall. There we go.

A pained groan leaves my lips as soon as my eyelids open. The room seems so much more brighter than usual yet the curtains are fully closed. My eyes are so sensitive right now. I have to keep squeezing them shut because it hurts so much.

I feel like a dump truck is parked on my forehead with how much my skull is pounding. It feels like someone is constantly and forcefully knocking on my head with their knuckles.

I'm suffering from an almighty hangover. And it's not fun.

How many drinks did I have? Five? Six? I don't know, it's just a number I didn't care to think about.

I roll onto my stomach and stuff my face into the pillow in hopes it'll ease the throbbing. The darkness allows me to focus on recounting what happened last night-not that I remember much.

I recall bits and pieces from last night. I remember hanging with Hilly and playing some kind of drinking game that has left my memory. I also remember demanding Max for a piggy back ride but he said no so I got one from Ro instead. Apart from that I don't really know what happened. I mean I get flashes of a memory but it's barely scratching the surface.

How did I get here? Surely I wasn't in any kind of state to get up here myself.

With a grunt and another loud groan, I manage to get on my feet.

I need water so I weakly walk out of my room with squinted eyes. I grab a glass before planning to roll back up in the sheets again.

I stop mid-step when I notice a shirt resting on the living room couch. My fried brain can comprehend that this isn't mine because it's too big.

Glimpses of Jack appear across my vision in that moment. I hear singular words such as idiot and Maddy with his voice in my ears. I recall a smirk on his lips and his warm hold on my wrist.

I rub my forehead.

He was here with me? Since when?

To be fair there's a certain point where I just blacked out.

It's like someone had a reel of movie tape and cut it in half so it stopped working. Only for the tape to then be reattached without the missing part, leaving it blank.

But why was he here with me? I thought he didn't care. I thought he had accepted that I didn't want to speak with him, especially not after our recent conversation. I guess he's the gift that never stops giving.

Snapshots imbedded deep within my brain show me pictures of a silver lit beach. Then another image flashes that Jack was there with me, too. I get nothing else after that. The rest of it is up to my imagination.

The cotton fabric of the shirt is soft in my hand but the scent is all too telling of who it belongs to.

Lynx Africa: the iconic fragrance of the one and only Jack Steele.

So he was in this apartment too? God I wish I remembered what occurred.

I stumble back into my bed, once again stuffing my face into the pillow with thousands of questions screaming in my head like sirens.

I'm clearly regretting my decision to get absolutely pissed. It's when I don't have a recollection of what happened that I kick myself over it. I want to know what happened between Jack and I last night and why he was in my lounge room. The only way I'll find out is if I speak to him myself but I'm too out of it right now. I just want to sleep all day. And tomorrow. And the day after that.