couches.

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Luke's POV

I wake up and am shocked to see myself in bed.

Not only that, but I'm shocked to see I'm in pajamas and not in my outfit from last night. I know for certain there's no way drunk Luke managed to do this last night.

I look beside me in bed to see the other side of the bed is empty just as expected. This is enough for me to sigh as I lay back in the empty bed and close my eyes once more.

How the hell did I get here?

I wonder if the guys got me home but then again, last I remember they were just as drunk as me. There is nothing more I hate than being absolutely clueless as to what happened last night.

I drudge myself out of the bed, immediately feeling the headache that booms inside my head making me groan in frustration. My feet meet the ground and I see my clothes folded on top of the desk making me furrow my eyebrows.

Now I know I didn't do that.

I sigh considering I have a pretty damn good idea of who did.

"Fucking hell," I mutter to myself as I drag a hand through my mess of curls.

I try to push this out of my head as I walk towards the kitchen and inwardly groan with each step I take. No one's awake as the house is absolutely silent and I can't help but wonder what time it is.

As I step into the kitchen, I mutter curse words under my breath as I practically trip over the chair of the kitchen table. If I hadn't known any better, I'd think I was still drunk.

I go to the cabinet to make myself some coffee and hopefully wake myself up. But as I do so, I hear a soft groan coming from the couch making me jump in surprise.

I look over and my eyes widen when I see Addison laying on the couch cuddled in a blanket as her face scrunches up probably from the sound of me waking her up.

"Luke?" she croaks out as she opens her eyes slightly.

"Addison?" I ask even though I know damn well it's her. What's she doing on the couch?

She slowly and reluctantly sits up as she rubs her eyes softly with her small hands. She looks tired and slowly but surely it all starts making sense as to how I got home.

"You're up," is all she says as she sits up on the couch.

"Addison," I say in one breath, guilt flushing through me at the sight of her sleeping on the couch of her own home. This is way more than her home than it is my own and the fact that she felt the need to give up her bed for me sickens me. "Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

"You were in the bed."

I can't help but feel as if I got punched in the gut as I process these words. I open my mouth to respond but don't blame her for her words. Yesterday certainly didn't end well and I'd be just as mad as she is.

"You got me home, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did," she says in a soft tone but a sense of roughness to it. "While I was at Crystal's wondering why my boyfriend was treating me like the dirt on the bottom of his shoe, you were out getting drunk and taking body shots with random girls."

I see the sadness and anger in her eyes and try to make sense of it. I don't know how to properly word this considering she knows why I'm upset and I still believe I have a right to be. Did I handle the situation wrong? Yeah. Does me admitting to handling it wrong also mean I'm over it? No. Not at all.

"Addison, it's been a rough few days for me-"

"You think it's been a rough few days for you, Luke?" she asks, seeming to suddenly be awake. "I sat all week waiting for any word from you and got nothing. I waited for you to call me so we could do the stupid crossword together and you never did. I cooked you a whole dinner, folded all your laundry, and made sure this house was spotless for you when you came home regardless of the fact that you didn't check in on me once. Then, you come home screaming at me over something I can't control and when I left because I was upset, you went out and partied all night."

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