Married to the Devil

Chapter 3

As sunlight poured through the room my eyes cracked open just the slightest. I was awake. But just barely.

Ugh. You know that horrible feeling you get when you think about something you don't like? Like any bit of happiness is sucked out of you the second it comes to mind?

Then you understand my fueding relationship with hangovers.

This one was especially bad. Like an axe chopping down trees this one was chopping up my brain.

I moaned in annoyance.

The air was musty and smelled like a tornado ripped through my parent's house. Hell it looked just like it smelled. My eyes drifted around the room ever so slowly, only God knew his much it hurt. I only briefly remembered the outrageous party that had happened last night.

Let's see.

Empty pizza boxes trailing the ground? Check.

Furniture toppled over? Check.

Dented wall with bits of plate in it? Check.

Drinks all across the room to as far as I could see? Check.

My eyes traced over a large lump in the corner on the sofa. Great. There was a stranger sleeping in my house.

I rolled my eyes. Half naked looking guy in the corner? Check.

I got up slowly, careful not to go too fast. My eyes were still adjusting to the extremely bright light streaming in through the fully open blinds. Who in their right mind had the indecency to open those damn things at full blast? Remind me never to invite anyone over ever again. My head pounded as I groggily crawled over to the window.

Inconsiderate bunch of-

I froze.

The lump on the couch moved. My attention fixated on him. It rolled itself over on the couch and opened its eyes slowly. As he yawned and slowly focused on his surroundings, our eyes met.

Chiseled jaw.
Designer sandy brown hair.
Electric green eyes.

Fuck.

Derek's eyes bored into mine. I instantly snapped awake, no longer groggy or tired, and aware that the boy I hated had slept in my house. He gave me a once over and widened his mouth in a stellar grin.

"Wow."

I looked down at myself.

What?

My little black dress was gone. Instead replaced with black lace lingery; there was a matching bra and panty set.

Double fuck.

I felt myself slowly turning crimson as the blood rushed into my face.

Derek laughed. As soon as the hardy, boyish laugh is out of his mouth my mind immediately jogs back to the past. Out of everything about him that has changed, his laugh is the one thing that's stayed exactly the same.

Derek swung his legs over the sofa and stood. I sucked in a breath and contrasted the differences. His legs were a lot longer than what I'd remembered, elongating his body to a much taller height. He was shirtless. My eyes skimmed over the area. It was a lot more defined than before. His 6 pack had turned into an eight pack. Yeah, an eight pack.

He smirked when he saw me looking. My eyes widened when I'd been caught staring. Just like the first time I'd met him. I looked away quickly, trying my best to cover myself with my hands.

Derek stepped forwards and groaned in pain. He immediately put a hand to his head, massaging his temples. I grinned cheekily, guess I wasn't the only one with a hangover. Hah.