Every sound I heard was horrible. Every light was blinding. The pounding on my head was killing me. Stupid hangover, couldn’t get any worse.
Last night. Last night—was a nightmare. Stupid Matt, I’m gonna get you this time. Perverted asshole!
I looked around, studying the room I am in. Where was I again? I closed my eyes, thinking how I could’ve possibly ended in this room, but my head wouldn’t stop pounding. It just gets even worse. Pressing my temple with my thumb, I took a deep breath. I’ve never been so drunk in my life. I drank too much Cosmopolitan. Well forgive me, I was totally clueless. I thought there were only Cosmopolitan magazines and that Cosmopolitan drinks ever existed. Kean was right. I shouldn’t have accepted drinks from anyone. Speaking of Kean… Oh My Gosh, he’s probably gonna kill me!
Desperately searching for my phone, I crawled on the floor and tried searching for it. I wasn’t able to hear someone coming inside the room until I saw legs standing in front of me while I was searching under the bed. Where the hell is my phone? And who the hell is this idiot blocking my way?
Trailing my eyes from his legs up to his face, my cheeks flushed bright red from embarrassment as I saw Drake smirking at me. I immediately got to my feet and stood in front of him. Our eyes locked for few seconds before I looked away.
How the hell did—THIS IS DRAKE’S HOUSE! How could I forget? I was the one who told him to bring me here last night.
Trying my best to recall what happened last night with Drake, a sigh of frustration escaped my lips as I couldn’t recall much after the drive. How did I end up in Drake’s room? He didn’t carry me, did he?
“Enough with the blushing, Princess. I get it, you find me pretty hot. But you look hotter with nothing else but my sweatshirt and underwear on,” he smirked.
Nothing with—what?! I stared at the mirror and great horror met me. I was wearing only underwear and a sweatshirt! How the hell did I end up like this? I gave Drake a disgusted look. “You,” I said, pointing a finger at him.
His grin grew wider. “Yes. Me?”
“You—didn’t… didn’t… touch anything, didn’t you?”
He laughed. “Of course not!”
“Well—uhh,” I stuttered. “How did I end up like this?”
“You were pretty wild list night, princess,” he said, shaking his head, “Very naughty.” The words ‘naughty’ and ‘wild’ when put together means… humiliation, embarrassment… and exaggerated craziness! Ohmigod.
Oh gosh, did I do something crazy last night? Please tell me I didn’t. “Did I… uh—do something… to you?”
“Pretty much,” he told me. “You should get drunk more often.”
Grabbing a pillow, I threw it to him, which of course, didn’t hit him. I’m not a target shooter, my bad. “You’re taking advantage me being drunk!”
He pouted and then smiled. “It was the other way around.”
Oh kill me now, please. “Tell me everything I did last night.”
He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll tell you if you go downstairs and eat breakfast. The table’s ready.”
“Fine,” I groaned. “But do you know where my phone is?”
“Oh, about that,” he said. “Your boyfriend kept on calling last night—“
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Novela Juvenil'Falling for your best friend is harder than what you expect. But falling for a person who doesn't even give a damn about you is worse than what you could ever imagine.' __________________________________________________________ Chloe finds herself...
