Disclosure

two.

Devlin

Beeeeeeep. Beeeep. Beeeeeeep.

I groan.

The body beside me doesn't move, laying lifeless in my bed. He's alive.... right? I cover my ears as the beeping continues, the hangover basically nonexistent, but I still feel like a giant shit. I cover my ears and roll over, trying to ignore that annoying noise. Unfortunately, the beeping continues and I rip the covers off my body, my bare legs swing over the bed and I make my way to the kitchen. I stagger down the hall and see smoke coming from the doorway of the kitchen, a deep voice cussing profusely.

I wave my hand in front of my face as the smoke gets worse as I enter the kitchen. The site of a tall man in black skinny jeans and a black t-shirt surprises me; what the hell is he doing here? There's a white linen towel over his left shoulder, another in his hands as he frantically waves it in front of the range.

"Who the hell are you?"

He turns around suddenly, his eyes huge. His hand covered in silver rings pushes his brown curls back, a fake smile showing all his teeth appearing on his face.

"Devlin. Hello." He says calmly, too calmly.

"Who the hell are you?" I ask again, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm Harry." He sticks his hand out for me to shake, which I gladly ignore.

"Why is my kitchen on fire?"

"Ahh, well, you see. It's not on fire, the bacon is." He explains, rubbing his hands together. His British charm may work on other girls, but I'm not buying it.

All of a sudden the pan on the range bursts into even bigger flames, causing this rather tall and lanky figure in front of me to fan the fire with the towel in his hands. I swiftly move to a cupboard and pull out a tub of flour. There's not much left so I take the lid off and dump it all onto the flames. I find the lid to the pan on the counter and put it on top, ensuring the fire is out.

"Why are you here?" I push, turning to face the man in my kitchen. One of his charming techniques must be avoiding questions, noted.

"I had this all under control y'know." His voice is calm, but god does he talk slow.. must be a British thing I guess.

"Sure ya did Gordon Ramsey, now answer my question."

He gives me a funny look, and shakes his head as he looks at the floor. His right hand goes behind his head, scratching his neck. An amused smile appears on his face. "You really don't remember anything from last night do you?"

My eyes widen suddenly.

"I was with your father and some of his friends, you and your friends came in drunk, we talked, you left, and that's all really. I stayed the night in the basement, your father said I couldn't leave after drinking as much as I did so I crashed here. I was making breakfast for him as a thank you."

I nod. Seems like a semi-truthful version of what actually happened. But considering how drunk I actually was last night, I'll have to take his word because I don't remember shit.

He cracks the windows in front of the sink and opens up the doors to the pool. I hear someone walk into the kitchen behind me and it's the guy I brought home.

"So uhh...Debra right?"

I can feel my face heat up. Harry chuckles and I walk over towards the stranger from my bed, trying to block Harry out of his sight. This has to be in the top ten most embarrassing moments of my life.