get involved with Z, would it help me as I tried to regain control back on my life…in all areas? It had only been a short time after all. Not to mention, it was only now that I felt like I could flirt…I felt like I could flirt and tease a guy without fear of retribution. The realization made me chuckle. Such a small thing that most would take for granted, but here I was worried about flirting without being ‘punished!’
I laid my head down on the sofa arm and continued to stare at Z. He was just so attractive, so strong and just the perfect image of what a man should be. But sleeping, he looked sweet, almost childlike. I giggled noticing the drool coming out the corner of his mouth. Well, that helped the childlike picture! I drifted off to sleep again with all these thoughts swimming around my head.
“Ow, fuck!” I heard Z hit something, waking me from my dream. I opened my eyes to watch him stumble to the bathroom. Next, I heard him retching…hopefully into the toilet. I got up and followed him, grabbing the water off the coffee table. Poor guy. I sat next to him on the floor after he was done and handed him the water. He leaned against the wall.
“Thanks,” he said taking a small sip and then he handed it back to me so he could have another date with the toilet. “Aww…fuck.” He said after that bout. He blew his nose in a tissue, threw it in the toilet and flushed it. He leaned back against the wall again.
“Do you want me to get some bread for you; maybe you’d at least have something to throw up next time?” I felt so bad for him, but at least he was getting out of his system.
“Yeah… yeah, okay, thanks.” He closed his eyes and I left to get it for him. I came back and he was exactly as I had left him.
“Here ya go….take small bites.” I instructed, still feeling sorry for him. He took the bread and did just that, then drank a couple sips of water. We sat there for a while not saying anything at all. Then he started to stand, but sat back down quickly and then…had another round.
Finally, he stood up without getting sick again and started to walk out. I followed him, holding the bread and water. He lay back down on the couch and said in a barely audible whisper, “I’m sorry….” Then he passed out. Not romantic in the least, but he was just so darn cute, even when he’s drunk.
I lay on the chaise again and just gazed at him. I hoped he wasn’t going to try to kiss me again. I’d hate to think of what he just did and that he didn’t brush his teeth. Gross, I know. But that’s what I was thinking as I fell back asleep.
I awoke before everyone else in the house. The sun was coming through the back windows and I decided everyone, well, except Clark and I, would be hung over.
Shit. Clark. All of sudden I remembered he walked in on us. Well, there goes the chance of Z forgetting. Or even the chance of my being able to bypass that conversation, if any.
I went to the kitchen and started cooking breakfast for everyone. I knew grease was the best route to help everyone’s hangover. Bacon, pancakes, eggs, hash browns and I took out the ingredients for the Bloody Marys. One by one, they came down the stairs. Z was still passed out on the couch. I left out all the food so they could make their own plates then proceeded to make everyone a Bloody Mary. We all ate in silence except for the occasional “Mmm, thank you so much.”
Finally, Flynn asked me, “How’d he make out last night?” while nodding over to Z asleep on the couch.
I started to answer, but Clark enthusiastically interrupted me. “Oh he made out VERY well, right Izzy? I walked in on them making out with his hand up her shirt!” My face burned red. Both Flynn and Melanie turned to me with their mouths open and eyes wide. What could I say? He was right. I turned around and pretended to be busy…doing something…anything.
Melanie asked, “Is that true, Izzy?”
Clark snapped, “Of course it’s true! I just
I laid my head down on the sofa arm and continued to stare at Z. He was just so attractive, so strong and just the perfect image of what a man should be. But sleeping, he looked sweet, almost childlike. I giggled noticing the drool coming out the corner of his mouth. Well, that helped the childlike picture! I drifted off to sleep again with all these thoughts swimming around my head.
“Ow, fuck!” I heard Z hit something, waking me from my dream. I opened my eyes to watch him stumble to the bathroom. Next, I heard him retching…hopefully into the toilet. I got up and followed him, grabbing the water off the coffee table. Poor guy. I sat next to him on the floor after he was done and handed him the water. He leaned against the wall.
“Thanks,” he said taking a small sip and then he handed it back to me so he could have another date with the toilet. “Aww…fuck.” He said after that bout. He blew his nose in a tissue, threw it in the toilet and flushed it. He leaned back against the wall again.
“Do you want me to get some bread for you; maybe you’d at least have something to throw up next time?” I felt so bad for him, but at least he was getting out of his system.
“Yeah… yeah, okay, thanks.” He closed his eyes and I left to get it for him. I came back and he was exactly as I had left him.
“Here ya go….take small bites.” I instructed, still feeling sorry for him. He took the bread and did just that, then drank a couple sips of water. We sat there for a while not saying anything at all. Then he started to stand, but sat back down quickly and then…had another round.
Finally, he stood up without getting sick again and started to walk out. I followed him, holding the bread and water. He lay back down on the couch and said in a barely audible whisper, “I’m sorry….” Then he passed out. Not romantic in the least, but he was just so darn cute, even when he’s drunk.
I lay on the chaise again and just gazed at him. I hoped he wasn’t going to try to kiss me again. I’d hate to think of what he just did and that he didn’t brush his teeth. Gross, I know. But that’s what I was thinking as I fell back asleep.
I awoke before everyone else in the house. The sun was coming through the back windows and I decided everyone, well, except Clark and I, would be hung over.
Shit. Clark. All of sudden I remembered he walked in on us. Well, there goes the chance of Z forgetting. Or even the chance of my being able to bypass that conversation, if any.
I went to the kitchen and started cooking breakfast for everyone. I knew grease was the best route to help everyone’s hangover. Bacon, pancakes, eggs, hash browns and I took out the ingredients for the Bloody Marys. One by one, they came down the stairs. Z was still passed out on the couch. I left out all the food so they could make their own plates then proceeded to make everyone a Bloody Mary. We all ate in silence except for the occasional “Mmm, thank you so much.”
Finally, Flynn asked me, “How’d he make out last night?” while nodding over to Z asleep on the couch.
I started to answer, but Clark enthusiastically interrupted me. “Oh he made out VERY well, right Izzy? I walked in on them making out with his hand up her shirt!” My face burned red. Both Flynn and Melanie turned to me with their mouths open and eyes wide. What could I say? He was right. I turned around and pretended to be busy…doing something…anything.
Melanie asked, “Is that true, Izzy?”
Clark snapped, “Of course it’s true! I just
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