I gulp the water and swallow some pills, but even after they are safely down my throat, a lump forms.
"No, what happened last night?"
"We slept together."
I choke on my words. "We—wha–what?"
My fingertips reach for my throat to try and force the words out. "How do I not remember this? Was I even any good?"
It's been weeks, probably months since I've had intercourse, and I'm not even sore. Why can't I remember such a significant experience?
"Amelia, fuck, I meant likesleeptogether. We didn't have sex."
"Ha…ha…ha…" My laughs are delirious and delayed as I process my slip-up. Okay, so Theo didn't take advantage of me while I was drunk out of my mind. Thank God.
He hands me the mug of coffee, and I slurp it like a madwoman despite the scalding temperature.
"Mind refreshing my memory? How did you even end up in my bed?"
"You needed some company last night. You didn't want me to leave."
"Oh, really? Wow. I must have been out of it bad."
"Must have been," he reassures. "You spooned me the whole night."
"I do love being the big spoon. This is quite…shocking."
"Quite. Can you imagine what would have happened if your dad saw us? I snuck out around 6:00 a.m. and went back to my room. And as much as I'd love to tell you more, I have to get going. I'm going out to lunch with my mom."
"It's already lunchtime?"
Grabbing my phone on my nightstand, I check the time and see it's 11:00 a.m. I'm so grateful I don't work today. Because if I did, I'd no doubt be written up because I didn't show up for my shift.
"Is my dad around?"
"I don't know," Theo admits as he backs out of my door. "We'll talk later."
That's Theo's goodbye for the day, so I hold the mug in silence at the bombshell he dropped on me. We slept in the same bed together. I don't know if I'm more disturbed by the fact we slept together side by side the entire night, or I didn't want him to leave.
Oh, if only my eyeballs weren't popping out of their sockets.
When I'm dressed for the day and have enough liquids in me, I still feel like I'm being held together with scotch tape. Any movement shifts my whole axis off balance.
I find my dad outside pulling some weeds along the side of the house.
Finding a shady spot in the grass, I plop down and lie back.
"You okay? I didn't see you come down for breakfast."
"I'm hungover."
"That was your wine bottle by the pool? Sweetheart, you know I don't like glass outside."
"I'm sorry, I know."
"And hungover? Do I need to ground you to prove my point?"
He looks at me with a dead-faced stare, but we burst into fits of laughter.
