Heads or Tails

Chapter 2

Ouch. My temples are pounding. With a groan, I roll to my stomach, reaching blinding for a pillow to pull over my head. Or to use to smother me. I haven't decided. I drank way too much last night. I push the pillow against my skull to prevent my brain from exploding. This vodka hangover is going to suck. The sound of my beeping alarm clock isn't helping either. I whack a snooze button and sit up on my bed. I glance at the clock, seeing neon lights flashing five-thirty in the morning.

Great. I feel like shit, and I have to be at the airport in less than two hours.

Annoyed, I flop onto my back and kick off my blankets.

What the hell? I'm naked. I never sleep naked.

I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand, hazily remembering the events of last night.

Please don't let Ben be here. Please, Please, Please.

I grab my blankets, wrapping myself in a cocoon of cotton. Slowly, I turn my head to see Ben lying on my bed, also naked. His muscular back stretches down from my pillow straight into the middle of my mattress. I stand over my bed, frozen and unable to move. My stomach twists as I watch him sleeping. His arm draped over the side of my bed, his eyes closed, his hair ruffled.

I exhale and force my eyes shut, trying to shake away my thoughts - this was a big mistake. I rarely make such irrational decisions, and I would never want to feel what I am right now: regret.

I want to rewind time. I want to return to last night and change my mind about flipping that coin. But not because the sex wasn't amazing but because this could change everything between us.

My whole life, I've prided myself on not being "that girl" who had meaningless sex or one-night stands. I've restricted sex to serious boyfriends only. I am proud to say I've only slept with three men (all serious boyfriends) and nothing in between. Unlike Stephanie and Michelle, who went through more men than underwear, I never once had a random drunken hookup. And even though it was petty, I felt like I had accomplished something they hadn't.

When my last boyfriend, Marco, dumped me, Michelle suggested that I let loose and experience the thrill of sleeping with a stranger to get over him. I laughed and told her that because I didn't believe in love, I did believe in self-respect. I thanked her for her unwanted insight into my love life and said that didn't excite me. Michelle asked, "When will you ever live a little?" I replied that I did live a little, just not with weird random men sweating all over my body.

I know Ben is not a stranger, but he may as well be as I stare at him, snuggled up against my pillow.

I sheepishly glance at my reflection in the mirrored closet doors across my bed. We had no business being so irresponsible about our friendship. We had even less business doing something so reckless and stupid the day before our best friend's wedding. But I smugly decide, even though I am disgusted with my behaviour, after a drunken night of meaningless sex, I am having a perfect hair day. I kick myself from the inside and note that even though this mistake's aftermath has left me feeling slightly flushed and looking better than usual, it will never happen again.

Ben rolls over and stretches his chiseled arms across my pillow. I hold my breath and watch his eyes flutter open. He looks far, too sleep-rumpled and sexy for my current state of mind. When our eyes meet, he blushes and pulls a sheet up to his chin.

"Hey. Good morning," he says, voice shaky. "Sleep well?"

I swallow hard and resist the urge to touch his face. I walk from one side of my bedroom to the other, dragging my sheets behind me. I stop in front of my doorway and say coldly, "I think you should go."