This Love is Ours

Chapter 25: The Wild & Crazy Side

{Patrick}

I stir slightly in my light sleep, rolling over as I do so.

I force my heavy eyelids open, and sunlight streams through the large window.

The Chicago skyline is vivid through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the end of my bedroom.

I absolutely love waking up to that view every single morning.

I check the clock on my night table.

11:30 AM.

I roll over and see Abigail lying beside me, her face buried in her pillows.

She has the covers all the way up to her neck, and her hair is tangled and messy.

I smile, looking over at her.

She's definitely hungover as fuck.

I went to bed at about 11:00 last night, and she obviously wasn't home.

I have no idea what time she made it home, but she's clearly still exhausted.

I'll ask her exactly what they did last night when she's able to speak.

She's going to be feeling pretty shitty for the rest of the day, and I don't blame her.

It's Saturday, August 6.

My bachelor party is tonight, at 8:00.

My groomsmen organized the whole thing, and apparently the entire Blackhawks team is going to be there tonight.

I'm not sure where we are going, but I will find out later tonight.

I'm pretty excited, to be honest.

I haven't had a solid guys night out for a while, and I'm looking forward to it.

I move closer to Abigail, wrapping my arms around her tightly.

I press my lips against the top of her head, pulling her body in closer to mine.

She groans lightly.

I bite my lip, trying to keep myself from laughing.

"Way to wake me up." She laughs, her voice muffled into her pillow.

"How do you feel?" I ask, the warmth from her body radiating onto my bare skin, as I'm not wearing a shirt.

"Like shit." She replies, quickly.

"Did you have a good night?" I ask.

"It was amazing. But I'm tired as hell, and super hungover." She admits, laughing into her pillow.

"What time did you get in?" I ask, pressing another kiss on the top of her head.

"Like 5:00 this morning?" She says.

"Wow." I say, raising my eyebrows.

Abigail isn't one to party a lot, so 5:00 is crazy for her.

"How much did you have to drink?" I ask, biting my lip.

She pauses for a second.

"Fuck you, Patrick." She laughs, shaking her head into her pillow.

I still can't see her face, because it is buried into her pillow.

Her light brown hair falls in loose, flattened curls down her back.

She's wearing spandex and my Blackhawks dri-fit t-shirt.

"You know that's my shirt." I say, chuckling.