The bass of you

Chapter 32

My face is on something hard, yet my body is comfy. My neck is also hurting, I think I slept awkwardly. Raising my head and opening my eyes, I realise I'm sleeping on Chase's chest. He's fast asleep, his cowboy hat is over his face again. His arm is around me, loosely holding me. I don't remember much from last night, but I do remember feeling like I really wanted to jump Chase's bones.

Yeah, definitely the drugs and booze talking.

What the hell do I do now? I feel so shitty, like my body is having some sort of comedown from the coke - which it probably is. My head feels foggy and the light faded behind the curtains is bright, even though it's not that bright really. Sitting up, I pick up Chase's cowboy hat slowly and gently to look at him. His mouth is open and even though he's in a deep sleep, he still looks great. Then I remember briefly something about him turning me down when I was trying to get it on with him. I remember him saying, "not like this."

What did he mean by that?

I'm actually really glad that he turned me down though, because I would have really regretted it right now and would be kicking myself so hard. It's actually really respectful of him to turn me down - I was drunk and high. I really wasn't myself last night, I was some whole other person that was really overconfident and ridiculously mindless in a storm of euphoria going on inside my brain.

Wait...is that why he turned me down? Because I was drunk and high?

If that's the reason then I have so much respect and appreciation for him, it just makes him all-the-more attractive. No matter his status, no matter that he can get any girl he wants, no matter how much I wanted him, he rejected me because I was high and drunk and just not in any way at all myself. Now that's something.

Looking down the end of the bed, I see Jace slumped in the armchair. I must have been asleep when he had come into the room because I don't remember him being in here. I don't know where Ace or Wolf are, and I presume Layla and Jackson are in Jackson's room. Eric and Leon are no longer in here either, unless they're in the bathroom - that really wouldn't surprise me. 

Jesus, what a crazy night. Did I really do drugs? Did I really do coke? How much did I even take?

At least I obviously didn't take enough for it to keep me up all night. My mum would kill me if she found out. No matter whether I'm twenty-one years-old or forty. My dad wouldn't be the biggest fan of it either, but his wrath would come nowhere near to my mum's. I'm not exactly proud of myself, but it was fun -  I can't deny that.

Chase stinks. Like, he really stinks. It smells like he hasn't showered in days. It's not my place to tell him to get in the shower when he wakes up, but I'm going to do it anyway. I feel so groggy and rough it's unbelievable. I didn't even feel this way when I woke up in fields as a teen after a hard night of drinking and passing out. My body feels so low and worn out.

Moving my hair away from my face as I move to the edge of the bed, slowly and gently, careful not to wake Chase, I notice something dark on my hand. Analysing my hand, I gasp and try to desperately recall what the hell I did last night. My knuckles are bruised : purple and green. Flexing my hand, it's actually quite painful. Did I punch something? Hurt my hand on something? Oh God...did I punch someone?

The alarm clock on the bedside table says it's 3 p.m. Just as I get up from the bed, a hand suddenly grabs my wrist, causing me to spin around in fright. Maybe a bit too fast for my hungover state, I feel so light-headed. Turning around and looking down at my wrist, it's Chase who has grabbed me, but the cowboy hat is still over his face. He's not making any noise, or moving, and the grip on my wrist isn't very tight. I'm starting to think he accidentally did it in his sleep, so I gently try to remove his hand, when he suddenly groans and picks the cowboy hat from his face. He's looking down at me, chin-on-chest, narrowing his tired eyes at me. Chase looks just as rough as I feel.