Second Chances

Chapter 5

Ava's POV:

Waking up the next morning proved to be a struggle. Even though I wasn't overly drunk last night, the mix of wine and whatever was at the party was the perfect concoction for a foggy brain the morning after. The sunlight burned my eyes as I tried to open them, and so I quickly dove under my sheets to relieve my eyes.

Whilst under the sheets, I took some time to gather my thoughts on what had happened last night. I'd had so much fun with Fi, dancing without a care in the world. I don't know why we don't go out more often. Everything was better with Fi there. She just makes everything so much more fun and we always have such a good time together.

But. That kiss was definitely the highlight of my night. I sighed to myself and folded my arms over my eyes, completely shutting out any light. It felt so good and so right, and I could only wonder how it would have felt if we were sober and our sense weren't compromised. It didn't bother me that I didn't really know him, I've had one night stands with absolute strangers without a second thought, and a kiss is just a kiss. But, I was growing concerned that if he did remember, would he regret it? It had been incredible for me, but how embarrassing would it be if he didn't feel the same? Ugh. I needed to talk to Ffion about this. Before I ended up engulfed in a wormhole of doubt and self-pity.

The smell of bacon and eggs wafted from the kitchen, flooding my senses and making my mouth water. Fi was a brilliant cook and she made the best breakfasts. I suddenly heard her yell "YOU ARSEHOLE!" and I let out a giggle at the multiple possibilities of what she was doing.

I grudgingly hauled myself out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen, my head instantly heavy and a hammer being whacked against the inside walls of my skull. Sure enough, Ffion was standing by the stove. Well. I say stood by the stove, she stood at arms-length away brandishing a spatula that she was somehow able to hold on to through oven mitts. To complete the ensemble, snorkel goggles encompassed her eyes. She'd raided my cupboard that was full of all kinds of random crap for her protective eyewear that I forgot I owned.

I couldn't contain my laughter. "Fi... Wha... What the fuck... are you wearing?" I couldn't even get my words out through laughing. I quickly found myself doubled over, one hand clutching my hurting stomach, the other holding me up by the wall, whilst struggling to breathe.

"This is no laughing matter Ava." She took on her serious tone, the tone I've heard her use when she was on the phone to her clients, whilst jabbing the spatula towards the sizzling pan. "The bacon won't stop spitting at me! I had to protect myself somehow."

I made my way to the stools, wiping away the tears from my eyes as I slowly controlled my laughter and sat down. With her back turned to me, I snuck a picture of her. This was definitely going to be posted on her Facebook wall on her next birthday.

"So then A," Here we go, I know where this is going, "spill the beans on that spicy kiss." She'd taken off her protective gear and had plated up our breakfast. There was a hint of mischief in her smile as she pushed my plate towards me, before digging into her own.

"I mean,  it was something else, that's for sure. He tasted and felt so good. Even though it was fleeting, it was easily in the top ten of best kisses I'd ever had, and no it wasn't because I was drunk. There was this spark that I've never had with anyone else. It's just... as much as I enjoyed it, I can't help but wonder what it was like for him and if it meant anything. It was not how I envisioned our first kiss to go." I stabbed my fork into my sausage, "What if I was too sloppy because I was drunk and I was a bad kisses?" I sighed and shoved the now cut up sausage in my mouth and chewed thoughtfully. It sounded so stupid saying how I felt out loud. I didn't want to give him the wrong impression, that I was easy. Or bad, because I was many things but a bad kisser is not one of them.