My Brother's Best Friend

Chap. 20

Important Author's Note regarding updates. Be sure to read it!

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I woke up with a pounding headache.

I closed my eyes, letting out a groan, and then blinked a couple of times.

I have absolutely no recollection of last night. I mean, I obviously made it home somewhere between drinking and dancing with Hannah and the rest of the girls.

But the question would be how?

I let out another groan, pressing my fingers to my temples.

I was way too hungover to think about this.

I let out a long sigh, lying in bed for a few more minutes before venturing out.

I stumbled out to the kitchen, my sole goal to locate the Tylenol.

"Good morning," Emmett chirped, with a smile.

"Shhh!" I ordered, swiping the Tylenol off the counter.

"Hungover?"

I ignored him, washing a couple of Tylenol down with his glass of water.

"That wasn't mine."

"Don't tell me," I ordered, turning to head back to my bedroom.

He chuckled. "Aren't you curious about last night?"

"Not in the least bit," I informed him, before climbing back into my bed.

I burrowed under the pillows, willing my headache to go away.

It didn't help that I was also excessively nauseous on top of this massive migraine.

I lied in bed for another couple of hours until Emmett forced me to come out to the kitchen to eat some lunch.

Parker was lying out across the couch, the lights in the living room off, and an ice pack across his head.

"Hungover?" I asked Emmett.

"Migraine," Emmett corrected. "He was the DD last night, not that you'd remember that."

"I bet he's hungover," I muttered, taking a bite of my soup. "But I guess we made it back in one piece last night, so who am I to judge?"

Emmett chuckled to himself.

"What?"

"You really have no memory of last night at all?"

"No," I said, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

What if I'd done something irreversibly stupid, like proclaim my love for Daniel or something? Was he even at the party last night?

I honestly don't remember.

"Would you two please shut up?" Parker groaned.

"Come eat some soup!" Emmett called.

"Shut up."

"Do you get migraines often?" I asked Parker.

"He does," Emmett confirmed. "Well, not often per say. But once every couple of weeks, once a month if he's lucky."

I'd never noticed that. I must be a pretty oblivious roommate.

Though, in my defense, this was only my third month living with him.

Parker picked himself up off the couch, flipping the two of us off before slamming his bedroom door behind him.

"Such a joy," Emmett said, with a laugh.