8 Weeks

Chapter One

Chapter 1 -Cal

I lifted my throbbing head from the mattress and glanced around the blurry room. Nothing looked familiar. I closed my eyes tightly and reopened them, hoping to bring the room into focus and discover where I was. Closing my eyes relieved some of the pain, but as soon as I opened them again, the bright morning light felt like a laser searing my skull.

"Fuck!" I raised myself up gingerly, on shaky arms, as the night before came back to me in fits and glimpses.

I was in Vegas.

We'd had my buddy's bachelor party the night before.

I'd gotten completely fuckin' wasted.

I was able to get into a sitting position,bringing my elbows up to rest on my knees, and cradle my head in my hands. I peered down around my palms and got an eyeful of my junk.

I was butt-ass naked.

What the fuck had happened last night? I closed my eyes tightly and tried to remember, but it was no use. When my stomach began turn, I heaved myself off of the bed and looked around for a place to vomit. I had no idea where the bathroom was, but was able to make it to the trashcan by the desk before the puke flew past my lips. A moan escaped my lips as my stomach cramped and some remnants of last night's dinner came out of my mouth and nose simultaneously.

The retching went on for a few minutes. My nose burned and there was a chunk of something lodged in the back of my throat.

Stomach empty, I sat back on my heels and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Now not only was my head pounding like a drum, but my mouth tasted like I'd been licking the ass-end of a horse for the better part of the morning.

I curled into a ball on the floor by the trashcan, willing the room to be still, so my stomach would stop twirling violently. It was no use. I felt the bile begin to rise and got up quickly to hug the trashcan again, hurling and heaving until there was nothing left but the foam from the pit of my stomach.

The sound of a flush, then water running had me turning my head toward what must've been the bathroom. A few seconds later, the door opened and a statuesque blonde strode out and picked up her dress from the back of a chair. She turned to me, naked as I was, and shook her head with a chuckle.

"That was some party," she said as she pulled the dress over her head and walked toward the door. When her hand touched the handle she turned back to me and smiled. "Have a nice life, sugar." Then she walked out, the door slamming behind her.

I sat there for a moment. Speechless, naked,reeking of alcohol and puke.

"No, no, no,no, no, no ..." I muttered as I began to rock back and forth on my heels. This couldn't be happening to me.

Where were the guys?

How had I gotten back to this room?

What the fuck had I done, and how was I ever going to explain this to my wife?