Loving Knight: Book One of the Cresswell Series

17. ALIYAH

Fuck, my head was pounding.

I sit up with a groan, running a hand through my hair. I hold my head, groaning again. “Fucking hell…”

My sleepy vision starts to become clear as I take in my surroundings. Where the hell was I? And what the hell happened last night?

I looked around, trying to figure out who’s room I was in right now, when I spotted an all too familiar bag sitting on a wooden chair near a desk.

Deion’s backpack.

My eyes widened a little as I looked down, noticing that I wasn't in the dress that I had worn last night. Deion’s jersey. I was in Deion’s jersey.

Oh shit…did we…

I grip the bottom of the jersey, hesitating before lifting it up a little. I take a small look before sighing with relief, pulling the jersey back down. I get up out of the bed and stretch when the door opens. Deion comes in, carrying a glass of water along with a small bottle of pills.

“Oh, hey. You’re awake.” He comes over to me. “How are you feeling?”

“Like someone hit me in my head with a rock over and over again,” I say, sitting down on the bed. “Never let me drink again.”

Deion chuckles, sitting down next to me. “Congrats on having your first hangover.” He hands me the glass of water and bottle of pills. “Ibuprofen. It’ll help with your headache.”

“Thanks.” I swallow down two of the pills as Deion gets up, going over his closet.

“You know, you were really out of it last night,” Deion chuckles as he grabs a t-shirt.

I groan. “Yeah, I can tell by how much this headache is killing me. How did I end up in your jersey, anyway?”

“You put it on yourself.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you did.”

I let out another groan as I rub my eyes. I reach over and grab the glass, taking a sip of the water as I put my eyes back on Deion. I wasn’t expecting to get a view of Deion’s  bare back, but I choked on the water when I did.

Deion quickly turns around, heading over to me. “You okay?”

I nod, wiping some of the water from my mouth. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just went down the wrong pipe.”

Deion takes the glass from me, setting it down on his bedside table. “I think you should stay away from drinks, Alicat.”

“Funny,” I say. I look down, getting a view of Deion’s abs. Blushing, I clear my throat, looking away. “You should put a shirt on.”

“Oh, right.” Deion takes the shirt in his hands, putting it on. “I put your dress in the washing machine, by the way.”

“Thanks.” The room went silent for a moment before I spoke again. “Deion?”

“Hm?”

“What exactly happened last night?”

“You want the short version or the long version?” He asks with a chuckle.

“How bad was I?”

“You weren’t bad,” he says. “You just…did some things I didn’t expect you to do.”

“Well that’s how people are when they’re drunk,” I say. “What happened?”

“Well you had about six or seven cups,” Deion starts off. “Then you threw up on my jacket–”