****Jerk**** (On hold indefinitley)

Chapter 9; I have no name for this chapter(:

I almost called Taylor to cancel our date. Almost. But I decided against it, despite my massive hangover. I could barely stand any longer staying home.

I could hardly remember anything from last night. All I did remember, was making the stupid decision to go to the club with the guys, getting drunk, and the rest was pretty hazy. Except for more towards the end when I was just slightly starting to sober up. All I could recall from that was making out with some guy, and getting dragged out of the club. I'm guessing I passed out after that.

I was informed today, that Jared had been the one to drag me out, and I had passed out in his arms, he so "romantically" (sarcastically) put it. And they also claimed that the guy I had been making out with...was Brad.

I know right. My first thought was "Oh, dear God, shoot me now" which was quickly followed up with pure denial. But a sinking feeling lingered in my stomach that I did remember having my face uber close to his, and having remembered that, ensured me that a make-out session had been sure to follow. Three words. That dirty bastard.

 So, for the entire day, Brad kept bringing it up. Backing me into corners, grabbing my ass, just totally violating my personal space. No matter how many times I slapped him, he kept coming back and coming back. Not being able to take it anymore, I ran into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me, only to realize that it wasn't my own.

It was Jared's.

My eyes widened to see him standing by his dresser, in nothing but a towel, his hair still wet, drops of water trailing, lingering on his upper, tan body, having apparently just finished a shower.

 "Hey," he muttered, a sleepy look still in is eyes. I hadn't seen him all day, and never noticed him leave his room to take a shower. It was probably when Brad was harassing me to make out with him, claiming that I had liked it last night.

Well, I guess that was a lie. The not-seeing-him-all-day part. I vaguely recalled watching him leave my room this morning; most likely going to his own. He probably knew what a sour mood I would be in when I woke up, and didn't want to face my wrath.

My awareness zoomed back to the present, when out of the corner of my eye I noticed Jared's hand begin to pull at his towel. I whipped around to face the door with a squeak, and slapped my hands over my eyes. I heard Jared's low chuckle, and then his bare feet padding their way towards me on the wood floor.

"What's wrong, Sammy?" Jared breathed into my ear, setting his hands on my arms. I shivered at the sudden contact.

"Put some clothes on!" I hissed between clenched teeth, keeping my hands over my eyes, and squeezing them shut, behind them.

"Aw, don't you want a sneak peak?"he asked in a sultry voice, and rapidly turned me around, sliding his hands to my waist to pull me closer to him.

I squealed in protest as he forcefully pulled my hands from my face, and I involuntarily glanced down to see....boxers.

I breathed out a sigh of relief, while he laughed at my once horrified expression. He still had his hands on my waist, and I swatted them away, walking over to plop down on his bed. he was still chuckling to himself while he walked to his dresser.

He pulled out a pair of jeans, and I tried not to stare at his ab muscles contract while he bent to slip on his pants. I looked towards the blank tv, and watched his reflection walk towards my own, and allowed myself to look back at him.

"Um, wheres your shirt?" I asked slowly, while my mind unwillingly was focused on how low his jeans were, dipping slightly below his hips. I swallowed, and warily glanced at the smirk on his face.