Be in My Life (Fifth Book in Life Series)

Chapter 9

"I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." ~Marilyn Monroe

Ellie

My eyes flutter open with my head pounding with a headache. I start to move my arm to block the sunlight in my eyes when I feel someone's hand in my bed. I gasp when I see Logan dead asleep beside me. Did we...? I check and see that I am fully clothed and so is he. Oh thank God! I breathe out a sigh of relief. 

Logan moves in his sleep and my body freezes like I am trying to make sure he continues to sleep. My head continues to pound and I know the Advil is in the bathroom cabinet. I swing my legs to the side of the bed but I move to fast and my head pounds even harder and my vision becomes blurry. 

I stand up from my bed but trip over my own feet in the process. "Fuck!" I scream. 

"What?" I hear Logan being startled awake. "Ellie?" He asks, peering over the edge of the bed. 

"Hey, Logan," I say with a bright, painful smile. "Ow, the head," I say with painful. 

"How's the hangover?" He asks with a laughing tone of voice. 

"Fantastic," I reply. "Why are you in my bed?" 

"You begged me," he replies with a sense of honesty in his voice. 

"I did what?!" I ask in shock. 

"You begged me to stay with you last night," he says again. 

"Did we...do anything?" I ask in a whisper, wanting to not believe it if we did. 

"No," he replies. 

"I don't remember anything from last night," I admit. 

"That's probably a good thing," he says with a small chuckle.

"What did I do?" I ask with worry. 

"Well, you were shocked to find out that I have a heartbeat," he begins. 

"So I am an Idiot Drunk?" 

"Many drunks are idiots," he replies. 

"Did I say anything else?" 

"You don't want to know the rest," he says. 

"Why?" I ask, worrying even more. 

"Trust me." 

"I do trust you but why shouldn't I know?" 

"There were things you said to me that you would never say to me sober," he replies. 

"Was I a bitch to you?" 

"Quite the opposite," he says with a shake of his head. 

"Logan, please tell me what I did?" I beg. 

"Well, after the whole heartbeat thing, you tried to convince me that you weren't pretty, then you asked me to kiss you, and then when I brought you home, you convinced me to sleep in your bed with you," he explains. 

"Oh my God, Logan! I am so sorry," I say with embarrassment. 

"You have nothing to apologize for. You were drunk," he replies. 

"But that must have been awkward for you." 

"I knew you wouldn't remember it so it wasn't that bad," he says with reassurance. 

We spend a couple more minutes talking before Logan suggests he makes coffee while I get my Advil and take a quick shower. 

I wash my hair quickly and my shower is barely five minutes long. For some reason, I want to spend as much time with Logan as I can. 

I grab a clean t-shirt from the dresser drawer and then a pair of pajama pants. Comfort is key when you have a hangover in my opinion. 

The shower helped to soothe my pounding head but the headache was definitely still there and I am hoping the Advil kicks in soon.

I find Logan in the kitchen, pouring coffee into two mugs. "Feel better?" He asks. 

"Much better," I reply. 

"That's good," he says with genuine happiness. "Want some breakfast?" 

My stomach turns at the mention of the meal. "Why would you suggest such a vile thing like that?" I ask. 

"Because I know how much people with hangovers love breakfast," he replies laughing.