Could you not keep it in your pants?

I wake up feeling like a herd of tap dancing elephants have taken up residence in my skull. Not only that, but it appears a big ball of cotton wool has made itself comfortable in my mouth. My stomach is swirling uncomfortably, the Chase Specials last night announcing their presence.

I groan and roll over, savouring the feeling of the cool pillow on my pounding head. It is then that I realise I'm not alone in my bed.

Please be Diana. Please may she have gotten drunk as well and just passed out next to me.

But I know my pleas are in vain, the little tuft of hair I can see poking out from the lump under the blanket is jet black and not dirty blonde. My recollection of last night's events is a little hazy, but I could never forget meeting Devon. I know it's him under there.

Damn it Alexa. Could you not keep it in your pants?

I pull the cover over my head and let myself wallow in self-pity for a couple of minutes, steeling myself to get out of bed in search of water. It doesn't help that I'm not used to this feeling. It's not often that I have too much to drink. The last time was when my cousin Hailee visited. I should have learned from then, it took me an entire day to recover from that little outing.

Chase Specials were to blame that time too. When will I learn?

I tentatively poke my head back out and am confronted by a pair of gorgeous hazel eyes looking at me. If I was feeling better, I would probably be mortified that Devon is catching me at my worst, but I don't have the energy right now.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, his voice low, as though he knows my head will burst if he speaks too loudly.

"Like crap," I croak, doing a pretty good impression of Kermit the frog.

"Here." He leans over me to my bedside table and picks up a glass of water I hadn't noticed before. The smell of apples floods my nostrils and for some reason, instead of making me feel worse, it perks me up a bit. "I put this by your bed, I thought you might need it." He hands it to me and I gulp it down gratefully, desperate to quench my dry throat.

"Thanks." Looking down at my body, I realise I'm wearing his t-shirt from the night before, my underwear and nothing else. He's still wearing his jeans and a pair of black socks, his bare torso on full display a few inches from my face. "Did we um..." I trail off not really wanting to ask the question.

He bursts into laughter, a deep throaty chuckle that's far too loud for my liking. "That's really not my thing."

What's not his 'thing'? Me? Am I not his type?

I can't help but be slightly offended, until I remember that I probably look like shit. I attempt to smooth down my tangle of hair and wipe under my eyes. I'm pretty sure I just made it worse though as my fingers come away black from the smudged make up I wore last night.

He notices my attempts at cleaning myself and reaches over to swipe his finger under one eye and then the other. "There you go." He smiles and I can't help but look down at his taut stomach, his muscles ripple as he moves.

Damn. He's got nice abs. Not overly defined, just enough to see the slight hint of a six pack brewing.

My mouth is suddenly very dry again. I need something to drink. Preferably Holy Water.

"Thanks for the t-shirt." I point down to my body, looking away from his before my self-control disappears again.

"Well, I didn't want to dig through your cupboards. I thought it might be an invasion of privacy. But I didn't want you to sleep in that dress either. That would probably be uncomfortable."

As uncomfortable as this conversation? I doubt that.

"So you undressed me?" I can feel a blush creeping up my cheeks as I realise just how drunk I was last night. I was wrong before, I do have the energy to be mortified. I don't think I've ever been so embarrassed in my life. This is not how I wanted things to go with Devon. Not even close to what I had planned.

The worst part? He's still wearing his boxers. They are not on my bedroom floor this morning. And after my behaviour, they probably won't ever be.

Well, fuck.

He shrugs like it's no big deal. Maybe he's used to dealing with drunk women? "You weren't really capable of doing it yourself."

"Damn those Chase specials," I mutter darkly, causing him to chuckle again.

"Yeah, those things are lethal. Word of advice? Stick to two. Three at most."

I wish he had told me that last night; it would have saved me from the humiliating scene I seem to be living through at the moment. My stomach clenches as I suddenly remember something else. "Oh shit, I'm so sorry about your shoes!"

"That's okay, they were old anyway."

I make a mental note to buy him a new pair and take another grateful slug of my water. I need to change the subject before I pass out from embarrassment. "So if nothing happened, why are you still here? Not to sound ungrateful or anything."

"You asked me to stay with you." He grins, running his fingers through his dark hair and making it stand up in spikes.

My face flames red, I don't think I have ever, in my whole life, been as embarrassed and humiliated as I am now. So much for the subject change. The thought of throwing up on him pales in comparison to me asking a stranger to stay in my bed with me. I pull the blanket back over my head and groan again, determined to stay under there forever.

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

A walk? Is this guy insane? No, I do not want to go for a walk. I am dying from alcohol poisoning and embarrassment. I don't have the energy or the will power to drag myself out of bed right now.

"Sure," I hear myself answer instead of the refusal I had been planning. "But I need to shower first."

There's not enough water in the world to wash off the shame, though.

Forty-five minutes later, I am feeling slightly better after a long hot shower and a good scrubbing of my teeth. I pull on jeans, a green sweater and a pair of trainers. I tie my still damp hair into a high pony tail. I don't even bother with makeup. After all, this guy has just seen me at what is probably my worst.

I walk into the kitchen and notice him sitting there. I hand him his t-shirt and he pulls it back on, it is then that I realise he is still only in his socks. "What about shoes?"

He clearly hadn't thought of that, "Does Chase by any chance sometimes leave his stuff here?"

"Let me go check." I go into Diana's room almost wishing that I won't find anything and I can go back to bed for the rest of the day, but sure enough when I open her cupboard there is men's t-shirts and a two pairs of trainers that I'm assuming are Chase's.

He's basically moved in already.

The thought of having a man's stuff in my cupboards literally gives me the shivers. Although, those might have been brought on by the hangover.

I look at the mountain of clothes on Diana's bed, remnants from us getting ready last night, and debate putting them away. But then I remember the gorgeous man in the kitchen and that thought is quickly forgotten.

Bringing out the shoes for Devon, I hand them to him and watch as he tugs them on. I had been worried (okay hoping) that they might not fit. But they slide onto his feet with ease and he ties up the laces tight before standing up and smiling.

Damn it. Why did I agree to this?

We walk outside, the fresh air hitting my face, which is actually nicer than I had expected. I'm not sure what to say to him. I can't ask him anything because I know we had a long conversation last night, even if I can't remember exactly what it was.

He is the first one to break the silence. "You know, I think that may have been the first time a girl has ever thrown up on me."

The mortification returns full force and my cheeks start to burn with shame. "I am so sorry, Devon. I will buy you a new pair of shoes!"

"Ah don't worry about it, I thought it was funny." He laughs again, his arm brushing against mine as we walk.

"And I thought it was the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to me, but each to their own, I guess."

"If that's the most humiliating thing that's ever happened to you, then you should count yourself lucky." He turns to the left, sticking to the side walk and going around the small kiosk that sits on the corner of our block. I follow suit, my feet dragging slightly on the pavement as my nausea slightly eases.

"What's the most humiliating thing that's ever happened to you?"

He doesn't answer for so long that I start to wonder if he will. Eventually though, all he says is, "I'd rather not talk about it."

I have no response for that and so we walk in silence for a while. The ache in my head slowly fading away with each step. I'm pretty sure the feeling in my stomach is no longer from a hangover but a side effect of being with him.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks as we turn onto another street.

"Surprisingly, yeah I am."

"Fresh air always helps. There's nothing that a good long walk can't fix."

"Thank you Dr Phil."

The corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk. "Come on let's head back."

By the time we reach my apartment block, things have been going so well that I am sure I will see him again. I keep expecting him to ask me to dinner or even just for my number. Surely I'm not the only one who feels the chemistry between us? Tingles run up my arms every time that our hands accidentally brush, and despite my hangover, a smile has made its way onto my face, refusing to budge.

He hails a passing cab and slips off Chase's shoes, handing them to me and standing in his black socks on the pavement. "Please give those back to Diana?"

"Uh sure?" I clutch the trainers as Devon gets into the car, with not even a hint of asking me out.

"Oh and Alexa?" he calls out as he's about to shut the door.

"Yes?" I respond hopefully.

He winks at me, that cute little smirk still on his face. "Try not to throw up on anymore strangers."

☆

"Where have you been?" Diana screeches as soon as I walk into the apartment after sending Devon off in the taxi. "I have been worried sick!"

"Not so loud," I wince, my headache starting to return. Devon's presence seems to be a hangover cure and now that he's gone it's starting to wear off. "When did you get home?"

"Oh about fifteen minutes ago, where have you been?"

"Relax, D." I chuck Chase's shoes on the floor and flop onto the couch next to her, determined not to move from there for the rest of the day. "I went for a walk with Devon."

"Devon?" her voice, thankfully drops a few decibels. "What happened last night Lex?"

"Well I got drunk, obviously," I summarize. "Threw up on Devon's shoes. He had to help me into bed and then apparently I begged him to stay the night. Although, nothing happened between us."

She is silent for a moment and I think she is about to scold me, but then she does the opposite, she starts laughing. "You... threw... up... on... his... shoes!" she gasps in between giggles. "Oh my gosh, Lex! I never would have thought you would do something like that!"

She doubles over, clutching her stomach. I have a strong urge to kick her off the couch, except I can't find the energy.

"Yeah it's not my proudest moment," I grit my teeth, the blush that had barely disappeared making its way back onto my cheeks.

"That's hilarious!" She thankfully sobers up slightly, although there's still a shit-eating grin sitting proudly on her face. "So, if nothing happened, how did he convince you to go for a walk with him? I can hardly picture it. Do you even own trainers?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." I shrug, not wanting to admit that I may have a slight crush on the guy already.

Realization dawns on her face anyway, as though the fact that I voluntarily exercised is telling enough. Which, to her, it probably is. "You like him," she points out excitedly, like she's just discovered something as monumental as fat-free chocolate chip ice cream.

I shrug again, not wanting to confirm or deny. "Doesn't matter anyway."

"Of course it does!" She squeals, clearly forgetting my 'not so loud' comment.

"He didn't even ask for my number or anything,'" I tell her, hoping this will make her speak a bit quieter. I don't think my poor alcohol soaked brain can handle any more noise today.

It works.

"Maybe." She seems to be thinking really hard. "He will get it from Chase?"

"Maybe." But I'm not convinced.

Would you call the girl that threw up on you?

One thing is for sure though, I won't let this morning be the last time I see Devon. There's a spark there, I can feel it. And if he doesn't want to make the first move?

Well, I will just do it myself.