Anything Goes

Chapter Two

Emma's eyes fluttered open, and she groaned in pain as she was greeted with a horrible headache. She winced as she sat up and brushed through her hair in a daze. All of a sudden, the events of last night came flooding back to her.

Bradley. Kate. The window. Bradley, who was asleep on her couch. She stood up and headed into the kitchen area. Bradley was still asleep, softly snoring, and didn't seem to notice as Emma began to make breakfast. She made two plates of toast and bacon, remembering what someone once told her; that a greasy breakfast cures a hangover. She prayed that was true as she made two mugs of coffee and retrieved a bottle of Advil from the cabinet.

She heard a grunt from the couch and looked over to see Bradley waking up. Her heart started racing in fear that he wouldn't remember any of last night and would panic at waking up in a strange apartment.

"Ems?" he mumbled, sitting up.

"Morning," she gestured to the table. "Breakfast is ready."

Bradley sat at the table and retrieved his plate.

"Greasy food cures a hangover?" he asked. "I've heard that one too. Works like a charm."

"I also have coffee, Advil, and ice cream if we need it."

"Coffee?" Bradley's face lit up and Emma passed him a mug.

"Hopefully you don't have work or anything today," Emma sat down across from him.

"Weekends off," he said after swallowing a mouthful of food.

"I get Sundays and Wednesday afternoons off," Emma replied. "Where do you work?"

"I work in an office. I'm an assistant to a publisher," Bradley sighed. "You?"

"I work at Spin City, the old record shop next to The Split Bean Cafe."

Bradley's face lit up once again. "That's right near my building!"

"You work at Gold Medal Books?" Emma named the large building that towered over her tiny shop.

"Yup. I've been to that cafe before," Bradley finished off his toast.

"Really? My friend Peter works there," Emma made a mental note to fill Peter in on everything that had happened.

"Oh really," Bradley said. "So, what are we doing today?"

"We?" Emma asked, getting up to wash her plate.

"Yes, we. I have no clue how to get home from here, and I still have a raging headache."

Emma tossed Bradley the Advil bottle and then took his empty plate and mug.

"Well, we can nurse our hangovers together. By the way, do you need clean clothes?" Emma asked, noticing that Bradley was still wearing his attire from last night.

"Yes, but I doubt you'd have anything that will fit me," Bradley replied, looking at her thin frame.

"I might, actually. I think I have some of Peter's clothes for emergencies," Emma ran to her bedroom and returned with a plastic bag full of men's clothing.

Bradley frowned. "I didn't realize that Peter is your boyfriend."

"Peter? No, we're just friends. He's like my brother," Emma laughed.

"Then why do you have his clothes in your room?" Bradley asked, looking through the bag.

"We made a pact to always help each other out in emergencies, and if need be, house said person. He has a bag of my clothes somewhere in his apartment," Emma said.

"That kind of makes sense," Bradley stood. "Where's the bathroom?"

Emma pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and sat on the couch, waiting. Bradley had seemed to realize that they were strangers, and was slowly losing that flirty sense of humor she had seen the night before. Emma sighed, hoping that they could break the ice soon enough.

"Peter has a strange taste in clothing," Bradley reappeared in a fresh pair of jeans and a galaxy print shirt.

"It's not that weird," Emma protested. "Can I send a picture of you to Peter?"

"Eh, why not," Bradley adorably grinned at the camera and then joined Emma on the couch. "So, I heard you had ice cream?"

They settled down together, sharing a blanket and a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. They talked about music, movies, work, and just life in general. Emma found herself not wanting to ever get up off the couch and leave him. But she had to. She had to put the ice cream away and wash the spoons, but when she sat back down Bradley pulled her into his lap.

He wrapped the blanket around them, and Emma leaned back so her head was on his shoulder. He slipped his arms around her waist and rested his head against hers. She put her hands over his and closed her eyes, taking everything in. How could it be that she only met him last night? And how did they seemingly fit perfect together, like two puzzle pieces who finally found each other.

Bradley sighed. "Don't leave, Ems."

"I'm the one who lives here, I should be asking you to stay."

"I have to go home at some point, don't I."

"Put your number in my phone. And I'll give you my number. We can keep in touch," Emma reached for her phone and handed it to Bradley.

He handed Emma his phone, and she put her number in under the name "Ems".

"I don't have a picture of you. You have one of me. It's not fair," Bradley whined.

Emma laughed, and they spent the next few minutes taking ridiculous selfies on both phones.

"Text me, alright?" Bradley asked.

"You're not leaving yet," Emma replied.

"I'll have to leave soon, as much as I wish I could stay."

"But not yet," she protested, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair.

They sat like that for hours, either talking or in comfortable silence. After a while, Bradley got up. Emma stood up as well, watching him gather his clothes and head out.

"See you later, Ems," he said, drawing closer to her.

She sighed and let him wrap his arms around her. Emma hugged him back, and looked up at him. When he kissed her, it set off a whole fireworks show inside her. She kissed him back. He tasted sweet, like ice cream and coffee, and he felt like hope. After he pulled away, she stepped back.

"Call me sometime," Emma smiled. "And maybe visit me at work sometime?"

"Definitely," Bradley pulled her close, kissed the top of her head, and then headed out the door.

Emma picked up her phone, and seeing the 5 text messages from Peter asking about the guy who was wearing his clothes, she decided to call him and tell him everything.