A Righteous Love

Chapter Twenty-Two - It's A Good Different

Chapter Twenty-Two - "It's A Good Different"

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When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was that I wasn't in my clothes. My dress was thrown in a ball on the floor like I just decided to rip it off in the middle of the night without even bothering to hang it up. I cursed at myself for a moment, thinking about all the wrinkles that might appear in the fabric when I had a sudden realization.

It wasn't my floor that my dress was laying on.

It wasn't my bed that I was lying in either. And it wasn't even my room.

It wasn't even my house.

My eyes went wide as I slowly leaned up on my one elbow and looked around the room.

The walls surrounding me were a creamy yellow color with random posters and banners covering them. There were white string lights going around the perimeter of the room at the ceiling and they were on, even though it was perfectly bright enough from the sun coming in through the window.

I looked down to see clothes covering the carpeted floor. My eyes caught on to my attire I was sporting, knitting my brows at the t-shirt I was wearing that wasn't mine, and the pair of basketball shorts that certainly weren't mine either.

Just as I went to lay back down, a snore came from behind me. I turned my head with a small gasp to see who the culprit was.

And then I saw Dylan. Passed out like he hasn't slept in days with no shirt on, baring his tan, muscular back.

Oh no.

I tried to think back to last night after we left Level 3, but I had no luck in bringing it up. I didn't really remember getting to his house, or who even came to get us. We might have taken a cab. I have no idea.

What I did remember was kissing him on the way to his room, and kissing him as we took our clothes off, and then-

Yeah, it happened – we drunkenly slept with each other.

I nodded my head with my lips pursed, trying to hold back an annoyed sigh. I can't believe I did that.

I just wanted to kiss the kid, not sleep with him in one-go. Apparently, drunk me liked to make horrible decisions and go with the opposite of my intentions.

Good job, Lindsay.

A few minutes later, Dylan stirred. He groaned sleepily and rolled over onto his back, slowly opening one eye. I looked at him with my eyebrows raised and an amused smile as he stared at me like he was really, really confused. Or maybe he was just tired.

"Um, hey," he chuckled, ruffling his hair.

"Hi," I sheepishly said. Then I figured if I didn't ask now, I'd never know what exactly happened last night. "Did we uh..." I started to say it, until he cut me off.

"Have really drunk, kinda sloppy sex that was somehow amazing? Yeah, we did," he said it bluntly with a short nod.

"Oh, um, okay," I stuttered, and my cheeks flushed with red hot embarrassment.

After that, the both of us went quiet. I didn't know what to say, and it seemed that Dylan didn't know either.

I didn't really regret what happened – it was taking a step closer to starting something with Dylan. I just wished it wouldn't have happened while I was hammered off a few sugary margaritas. Most of all, I wished I could remember it.