Chasing Sin

9

I wake up to a bright light streaming in through my window, so I snuggle my head back into my pillow, trying to shield myself.

Then I realize that my pillow is not usually this... hard.

I squint my eyes ever so slightly open, and when I do, I see a set of abs, sprinkled with black ink in various spots. I wedge my eyes open a bit more to see a matching set of arms and the rest of a torso. I slowly lift my head upwards, landing on the chiseled face of Sin Black.

What the hell am I doing in bed with Sin?!

He is still sleeping, just as I wish I were, and breathing heavily. His inked chest moves up and down as my head lays still against it. He's very warm, even with no clothes on.

Oh my gosh. He has no clothes on.

I look down at myself to see that I'm wearing only a baseball style tee that I don't recognize and my own lacy underwear. I then look further down Sin's body to find that he is actually wearing clothes. He's wearing pants, like cotton pajama pants.

I don't really know what amount of clothes counts as a clue to what we did last night, but whatever it was could not have been good for me.

I try to remember back to what happened last night. I remember drinking way too much, which explains the killer migraine. I also remember some sort of fight... between two girls, I think. But I also think Taylor was involved in some kind of fight.

I look around me now, trying to be careful enough not to wake up my pillow. There is a black bedspread covering part of my legs, and an off-white carpet on the floor, with dark furniture pushed against the walls. The bedroom door is open, exposing a small living room. I can see a black sofa and matching coffee table beside it, validating Sin's infatuation with the color.

I decide to lay back down atop Sin's chest, enjoying the feeling more than I probably should. I close my eyes, attempting to decrease the pounding my head.

What feels like only a second later, I wake up again. This time, Sin's body and its heat is absent from the bed. I look around me, eyes squinted again, and find the same scenery around me, the room just missing Sin.

I push myself up into a sort of sitting position, rubbing at my eye a bit. I pull my hand back and realize I'm still wearing makeup. I wet the edge of my finger and wipe under my eyes to hopefully remove any smears. Last night's messy curls feel knotted and much messier than intended. I also try to run my fingers through them to try and look a little less homeless.

"Morning, Sunshine," Sin bellows at the volume of a monster truck rally announcer.

I cringe, pressing my hand against my temple. "Sorry," he apologizes whenever he realizes I'm in pain. "This should help."

He hands me a glass of ice cold water and three Advil. I send him half a smile, taking the pills gladly. He's still wearing those gray pajama pants, his chest left bare. My eyes wander over it before pulling my attention back to his face.

"Thanks. Um, where are we?" I ask him. "Your house?" He nods. "Your parents are at work?"

"They're not here," he tells me. I just nod.

"So, um..." I need to ask what happened last night but I'm not sure how without being blunt. "Why didn't you just take me home?"

He chuckles. "You wouldn't let me. You didn't want your family seeing you drunk." He sits on the end of the bed with me, running a hand through his hair.