Breathless | Colby Brock ✔️

7

hi guys, i don't think there's any of it in this chapter but i want to apologize for the extensive appearance and outfit descriptions. i never thought i was going to publish this, it was mostly just for my own enjoyment. i know it isnt exactly good writing but i secretly always loved when people on wattpad did it even if it can be cringey and unnecessary. 

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My head felt like it was going to explode. I wish that was an exaggeration – but no, I had never been so severely hungover before. The moment I tried to sit up, I was hit by a wave of nausea that had me retching in a strange bathroom for the next fifteen minutes. 

My hangover was so awful that I didn't even notice I wasn't in my apartment until I'd rinsed out with mouthwash and realized it wasn't what I normally used. I froze, stepping out of the bathroom and looking around cautiously. I was wearing a black t-shirt that wasn't mine, standing in a room that was also not mine, and had slept in a bed that most definitely wasn't mine. Now, the real question was: if this wasn't my room, then whose was it? 

I was relieved to see that I still had my underwear on, and a quick inspection revealed no hickeys. It also didn't seem like anyone else had slept in the bed with me. 

After searching for my clothes with no success, I decided to open the door as quietly as possible and spy on whoever was here. Then, I would know if this was a dangerous situation, or just me drunk sleeping at someone's house. I was pretty sure it was the latter, but you can never be too careful. 

I snuck down the hallway, peeking around the corner. I could hear some noises coming from downstairs, and they seemed loud enough to mask my footsteps, so I quickly went down the steps. They led me into a living room, which I figured led into the kitchen. I could tell that the noises were coming from there – wait, was someone cooking? 

"You finally awake?" Colby's voice rang out, and I instantly relaxed. Thank God it was just him. I guessed I'd had too much to drink and ended up crashing at his place. Kind of embarrassing, but I could get over it. 

"I threw up in your bathroom," I said nonchalantly, walking into the kitchen and taking a seat at the bar. 

"Thanks," Colby replied, setting a plate of food in front of me. 

"Anytime." I stared hungrily at the bacon and eggs, grabbing a piece of toast and taking a large bite out of it. "Must've been a real banger last night, I wish I remembered it." 

"You don't remember anything?" Colby asked, raising an eyebrow at me. He turned off the stove, fixing himself a plate of food and sitting across from me. "Like, anything?" 

I looked up at him, and the second my eyes landed on his lips, a fuzzy memory flashed in my mind. Me, drunkenly throwing myself at him. 

I covered my face with my hands and groaned. "Oh my God, I am so sorry." 

Colby laughed, sending another wave of mortification through me. I tried to recollect anything else from the party, but I just came up with the faint memory of dancing and pounding back shots like it there was no tomorrow. Oh, and basically forcing myself on Colby. How dumb could I be? I just met the guy two days ago! 

When I went to college on the East Coast, I won't lie – I kissed a lot of guys. It never went farther than that, never: I wasn't into hooking up with random dudes. But kissing them? Yeah, that was fun. But I wouldn't want Colby to think I was just a girl who liked to get drunk and sleep around. I mean, I had a few friends back home who were into it, and they seemed happy, but I wasn't able to do that. I didn't have the mindset for it. 

"It won't happen again," I said, setting my lips in a firm line. "I am really, really sorry. It never should have happened, I was just so drunk."