I lost count of how many drinks I had last night and can’t even recall how I made it home. I haven’t been this wasted since my freshmen year of college. I pray I didn’t do anything stupid last night.
I should get up and make something to cure my hangover, but I don’t want to leave the comfort of my bed.
Wait. This bed is too comfortable to be mine.
Slowly, I open my eyes.
I take in my surroundings and freak out when I realize I’m not in my apartment.
Fuck. Did I go home with Austin Stinky-Breath Roberts?
The bedroom I’m in is larger than my entire apartment and looks like it was pulled straight from a design magazine. Dark hardwood floors stretch across the space, and floor-to-ceiling windows flood the room with light. The stunning art pieces displayed above the modern king-sized platform bed bring the room to life.
This man may have bad breath, but he sure is rich—and he has an eye for interior design.
Scrambling out of bed, I get up to look for my belongings, and I’m instantly hit with a wave of nausea.
I scan the room, and spot a sliding barn door on the left and sprint to it, hoping it’s the bathroom.
I stumble to the toilet and everything I consumed last night comes up, burning my throat.
The shower shuts off and footsteps echo, drawing closer while I continue to heave.
“Rough night?”
I glance up to find Maddox standing there, completely naked, with a smirk on his face.
I did indeed do something stupid, after all.
CHAPTER EIGHT
maddox
18 HOURS AGO
Snuggledon my couch with my dog Tsuki, I let “Coaster” by Khalid blast through the speakers and close my eyes, singing along. HisAmerican Teenalbum has been on repeat since I got back from Dauntless earlier today. I skip the happy, upbeat tracks and focus on the melancholic songs that reflect my current feelings.
My phone buzzes with an incoming call from Elijah.
I release a groan. Knowing him, he’s probably calling to invite me to the club tonight, but I’m not in the mood. Hitting the green button, I accept the call while trying to come up with excuses for why I can’t go.
“Hey, what’s up, man?”
“Not much, bro. What are you up to right now?”
“I just woke up from a nap.”
If he knew what I really was doing, he’d never let me hear the end of it.
“What are you doing napping so late?” he asks, a hint of confusion lacing hisvoice.
Glancing at my watch, I check the time—it’s seven o’clock. It was a little past one when I came home.
Damn. Have I been sulking for that long?
“I don’t know, man. I was just watching a show and passed the hell out,” I reply.
“Well, I was calling to see if you wanted to come over and chill. I invited Andrés and Santiago. We can grill some burgers and have some drinks.”
