I said no at first, but my answer eventually changed to yes.
After we realized that Becky had already left with Sean. I had rode here with Becky. She did this sometimes when she was drunk. Plus she might have thought Mark had already taken me home since we had been outside and she was too busy making out with Sean to notice.
I could have just called an Uber home. But Mark had already asked me to leave with him, so I knew I could change my mind and take him up on his offer. It would be free and...well, just look at him. I wanted to go with him. I wanted to see his house. I just didn't want to go back and have sex with him like he was probably implying.
But I ended up waking up the next morning in his bed with only my bra and underwear on. To my right, he was laying next to me. All I could see was his bare back uncovered by the sheet and the back of his head as he was turned away from me. To my left and scattered across the floor were my clothes.
Oh, shit. Did we have sex? Could I have possibly had sex and not remember? I didn't feel any different. Nothing hurt down there. No, I was pretty sure we didn't. But then why were my clothes off? That wasn't like me in front of a stranger. I rarely ever slept like that in my own home.
I very quietly tried to take the sheets off of me and get out of the bed without waking him up. I was planning on just getting my clothes and calling an Uber to leave. Wasn't that how these things worked? I didn't want an awkward next morning goodbye.
But as I was about to get off the bed, I heard him turn over and then felt a hand on my wrist.
"Whoa, whoa," he said in a raspy sleepy voice. "Are you leaving?"
I looked back at him. I was still holding the sheets up to my chest. "Yeah," I said quietly. I didn't know how awake he was.
He tugged on my wrist a little, wanting me to lay back down. "Come here," he said. He was so sexy with bed head. So I slid back down onto the bed under the sheets and turned to face him. He let go of my wrist and tucked both of his hands under his pillow as he scooter a little closer to me.
"You don't have to do that, you know."
"Do what?"
"Run off first thing in the morning."
"Oh, I just...I just thought that's kind of what I was supposed to do."
"Is this a one night stand?" He asked with his eyebrows raised and an amused looked on his face.
I just looked at him. I didn't know what to say. "Did we...actually have sex?" It was an awkward question, but I had to know.
"Oh wow," he laughed. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at me oddly. "Do you not remember last night?"
I thought for a minute and some things started to come back to me. But as I thought about it, he filled me in on the details.
After he bought me that one drink at the bar, he continued doing so until I had had about 4. He convinced me to do a shot with him, and then we switched over to beer. I had definitely gotten drunk. It didn't take much for me. I didn't drink that often and was a lightweight. But I was okay with it. We were just in that good, happy drunken state where we were being really touchy-feely and laughing at everything. I assumed he was drunk too, but he was slurring or being sloppy or anything.
We traded funny stories back and fourth and told each other about ourselves and our recent love life disasters for what felt like hours and hours. I'm not sure how long it really was. But the last thing I cared about was time.
