When I step into the room, he holds them out to me and turns his head away as I slip into them. "Okay, well… I should go." It dawns on me, though, I have no idea how I'm going to get anywhere. Call a cab, I guess. "Listen," he says, waiting for me to look at him. "I feel like an asshole." Did something happen I don't remember? I hesitate to ask, "Why?" "You had a lot to drink last night." "Wouldn't that make me the asshole?" He cracks a smile. "I didn't act very responsibly." "Um, we didn't…" Ugh, I don't want to say it. "We didn't, you know, do it—which is all thanks to you." "We probably shouldn't have done anything," he says, a hint of regret passing through his warm, amber eyes. "I shouldn't have teased you this morning. I made you uncomfortable, and…well, I feel like an asshole." "I'm uncomfortable because I don't think I've ever been this hungover in my entire life." I sit opposite him on the bed, leaning against the headboard. I clutch a pillow against my lap. "Last night was…" I stop for a moment as it hits me.
What do You think about VIP (Rock & Release, Act I)?
