Falling for Mr. Perfect

The afternath

Riley's POV

I feel a pounding in my head as my body begins to awake. Damn I feel like someone knocked the wind out of me. Slowly but surely my hands reach my eyes, I slowly rub them and rub my sticky face, getting prepared to open my eyes. I honestly remember nothing from the night before, I mean my mind is pretty blank.

I stifle a yawn and try to sit up, but something is holding me down, or maybe it's more like someone. I slowly managed to open up my eyes, the bright sunlight shining in through the curtains causing me to groan out.

Is this what it feels like to have a hangover? To feel like you're mentally and physically going through hell? I guess so. I let my eyes adjust before fully opening, it took me a minute but I realized, I wasn't in my bedroom.

Suddenly my heart stopped. The last thing I can actually comprehend from last night was someone carrying me upstairs. Everything after that is quite fuzzy in my memory. I fear to even look down at what's holding me down, hell I'm scared to look down to even see if my shirt isn't on.

After a deep breath I force myself to open my eyes and look down slowly. I gasp at the sight of an arm, slung over my torso.

A whimper escapes my lip, I'm scared out of my mind to turn around and see the mystery man holding me in their grasp. I keep hoping and praying I didn't do anything too crazy last night, or else I could be in some serious shit.

I finally muster up some courage and turn slowly, trying not to wake whoever was sleeping by my side. As I shift around I can make out that he has dirty blonde hair, the color of wet sand at the beach. I finally face him, my chest pressed up against his.

I look up and see Lucas Friar, sleeping right next to me, shirtless. My mouth grows wide and my eyes become saucers, a shriek escapes my lips and a very confused and hungover Lucas sits up, unraveling his arms from around me.

Being the klutz I am, I try and get off the bed only to end up rolling off the bed, bringing the sheets and comforter down with me. I'm crawling around on the floor, looking for my clothes.

For some reason I turn my gaze to Lucas, he's naked and sitting up on the bed seeming just as confused as I am. For some reason I can't take my eyes off of his toned muscles, watching him run his fingers through his messy hair had me gazing for longer than I expected. When I realized my gazing had becoming stalking staring I snapped back into reality and searched for my stuff.

All I could find was my bra and tank top, extremely frustrated I grunt, crawling over to the bed and searching under it for the rest of my clothes.

Nothing.

I really don't want to talk to Lucas and ask if he knows, I mean how would he even know anyways? Not the point. The point is that I just don't want to speak with him in general, things are already awkward enough with my crawling around on the floor naked, dragging a pile of sheets with me.

As I search the hardwood, I find a pair of legs appear in front of my face. I slowly look up to see Lucas in his black boxers, giving me a strange look.

"Exactly what are you doing again?" He asked, scratching the back of his head. I felt my cheeks burn hot as he asked that, I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out.

Lucas shook his head and walked off. A few seconds later he reappeared with my underwear and skirt along with my jacket and heels.

"I'll just put these on the bed for ya." Lucas sighed, placing the neat stack onto the foot of the bed. I nod and slowly maneuver my way over to bed and manage to stand up. I'm still holding the sheets around my body like a towel.