When I wake up the next morning—surprisingly still alive, unsurprisingly still a little drunk—I’m tangled in a blanket on the floor of my bathroom wearing nothing but Alec’s shirt, and my chest and throat burn from my time spent retching into my toilet. The harsh sunlight streaming into my apartment is blinding, and for the first few minutes while I rise to consciousness, there’s only the bright light and the intense throbbing in my skull to keep me company, before the memories from last night flood in. Then I remember why I’m lying on my bathroom floor, with the taste of vomit and wine coating my tongue.
Oh.
Right.
Men.
I groan as I peel myself off the ground, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders. The pounding in my head is like an off-tempo drum. Bed. I need bed. I need bed, and I need to never see another man again so long as I live.
Fuck Alec.
Fuck every lie he told me.
Fuck all the secrets he and his brothers kept from me.
I almost make it to my bed, and I’m just about to crawl under the sheets to sleep off the rest of this hangover, when there’s a knock at the door. I freeze, cold anger flooding my veins.
If it’s Ashton, I swear I might break something. Maybe somethingattachedto him. But before I decidewhatexactly I might break, and whether it’s his penis, a voice calls from outside.
“Syd?” The voice is chipper and muffled by the door, but distinctly feminine. And familiar. “Let me in. I brought you a bagel sandwich and some ginger ale. I heard you might need a bit of help.”
Jade. I let out a shaky breath. My single ray of light in this horror show we call life.
“Don’t make me go all the way home to get my spare key,” she threatens. “I’ll do it, but I won’t be happy about it.”
“I’m coming.” It takes me an embarrassingly long time to shuffle to the door and unlatch the deadbolt.
Jade’s eyes widen at the sight of me when I ease the door open.
“Oh,” she says, taking a step back and blinking hard at my appearance. Her eyes roll over my body, from my split lip to the blanket wrapped around me, and then down to my bare feet. “Oh, Syd, you did some damageto yourself, didn’t you?”
I wince, reaching up to touch my frizzy curls. They feel flat on one side, unmanageably wide on the other. “Is it that bad?”
“Well, it’s not exactlygood.” She brushes past me into the apartment, scooting around the couch and dropping her hangover haul on the coffee table. I shuffle along behind her, dragging my blanket behind me like a cape.
It’s even brighter in my living room than it was in the bathroom. There was a time when I loved how much natural light this apartment gets, loved that it was sunny and bright all day. But today the sunlight feels like it might kill me. I collapse onto the couch with a groan and curl into a ball, praying for some clouds to block out the sun.
“How did you know I needed help?” I ask.
“You can thank your quiet doctor for that,” Jade answers, pulling a bagel sandwich out of the bag. The smell of food nearly sends me running back to the bathroom, my stomach rioting at the idea of eating, but I know from far too many hangovers that it’s the only thing that’ll cure me right now. “Care to explain why ashockinglydisheveled Sebastian was waiting outside the café when I tried to open up this morning, begging me to check up on you?”
I make a small pathetic noise and pull the blanket over my head, hiding my face. I don’t want to explain. I don’t want to think about him, or any of them, right now.
“Come on, Sydney, you smell like a winery, and you look like death.” Jade nudges my cocooned legs with the food until I finally emerge and take it from her. “What the hell happened?”
I force myself to sit up and take a tentative bite of the bagel. I let it sit in my stomach for a few seconds before I trust myself to speak. “Well, I’m officially single again.”
Jade’s face falls. “Oh, shit.” She drops heavily onto the couch next to me. “Why? Everything seemed so great with them!”
“Oh, so Seb didn’t tell you that too? Now that the two of you are such good friends and all?” It’s hard to sound angry whenI’m actively trying to keep from vomiting. The words come out bratty and childish, my sarcasm flat.
“Oh, please.” Jade clicks her tongue. “Don’t do that. Green is a terrible color on you. You know you’re my best and only friend, Syd. I wouldn’t be bringing my patented hangover cure to anyone else.”
I grumble an apology into my food.
“Forgiven.” Jade crosses her arms over her chest, leaning back against the couch cushions. “So. Are you going to tell me what happened, or do I need to schedule a playdate with Seb so he can tell me while we braid each other’s hair?”
I let out a laugh and regret it immediately when my stomach somersaults in protest. But the bagel is doing an excellent job of soaking up whatever alcohol remains in my body, and I’m starting to feel almost human again. I take another bite.
