MARIEL

3~ Coffee. Mariel. Bookstore. ~

The incessant ringing and buzzing would not stop, neither did the dull, nauseating throbbing in her head. Her eyelids opened just a little. The ringing stopped, and she closed her eyes again. Seconds later, the ringing and buzzing started again. Her eyes opened again, a little wider this time, and she immediately regretted it as the sunlight bursting into the room struck her dark, brown eyes. Slowly, her fingers crawled across the nightstand and grasped her purple-cased phone. A little mode of panic started growing inside of her as she read the caller's name on the screen: 'Dad'.

Fuck.

She swiped the caller button and brought it to her ear, slowly coming to a frightening realization of her surroundings. The bedroom was well organized, with Chicago Cubs blankets, posters, and other collectibles on the walls, lounge chair, and dresser.

"Hello?" She spoke it as if the caller was unknown.

"Where the hell are you, Esther? It's almost 10:30!"

Panic continued to creep through her body and her heart rate increased as she rolled backwards enough to feel a warm arm against her bare back. Her eyes widened immediately. The pain in her head was intense, but the quiet, painful ache between her legs eliminated all other reality of pain.

"Dad, sorry, I was really tired." Fuck, fuck, fuck. Okay, what was I doing last night?

"Esther. We had people lined outside the store waiting for it to be opened. If it weren't for Mariel seeing the damn line from the diner and calling me, I never would have known. Where the hell are you?"

Fuck. Mariel. The panic was only getting worse. Now, she felt like she needed to shit. Not only had she missed opening her father's bookstore (but honestly, whatever, maybe he should open more often), she had missed her promise of coffee at the diner with Mariel before work.

The arm against her back stirred. Esther wanted to vomit.

"Dad, I - " She didn't know what to say. How to lie. "I -"

"Get to the bookstore now." The phone call ended.

Esther sat up and the sheets fell from her bare torso. She wrapped her arms around her full breasts and, with dread, turned her head to see who was behind her. She stared at the muscular back of a blond-haired young man with a close-cropped cut. A snore escaped his mouth.

"What the fuck?" Esther scrambled from the bed, dragging the sheets with her. "Gabe, wake up!"

This was not going to be a good day. She stood in the middle of the chilly room, her long, brown, hair cascading past her shoulders, facing the large window of the bedroom that overlooked the city.

"Gabe!"

The man rolled onto his back, rubbing his head and squinting towards her. "What? God, it's early, stop screaming."

Incredulously, Esther stared at him. "Are you kidding me? What the fuck happened last night? Why am I in your fucking bedroom?" Her beautiful eyes were wild and her knuckles whitened as they tightening around the sheets she clutched against her body.

Gabe sat up and continued squinting. His muscles flexed as he raised himself onto his elbows. "First of all, calm down."

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down!"

"Second of all, we were at that party last night. Remember? Ashley's birthday? You had like 47 drinks, I swear. Apparently, I did too."

Clinging to the sheet, Esther began searching wildly for her clothes. Panties by the lounge chair. Bra by the doorway. Jeans just outside the door. Shit.