5. Addie
Chapter 5
Addie
M y head throbs with each pulse of my heartbeat. The room spins as I crack open my eyes, and bile rises in my throat. This isn’t my bedroom. Where the fuck am I? The generic artwork on the wall and the bland beige curtains screams hotel room. I must have had enough sense to come here last night instead of trying to make it home.
Christ, how many shots did I do?
I try to get up, but something is pinning me down... Something heavy drapes across my waist.
An arm.
A very muscular, tattooed arm.
I turn my head and my stomach lurches, both from the hangover and from seeing Thrash’s sleeping face inches from mine. His dark hair falls across his forehead, and his chest rises and falls with deep, peaceful breaths.
Oh god. What did we do?
The worst part isn’t that I apparently slept with my friend, it’s that I can’t remember any of it. Fragments of the night flash through my mind: shots of tequila, throwing axes, stumbling to the shop, but after that... nothing.
The shop?
Why did we go to the shop?
And how did we end up here together?
I ease out from under his arm, moving as slowly and quietly as possible. My clothes lay scattered across the floor. At least I’m not completely naked. Somehow I managed to put my panties and bra back on after our apparent hook-up. If I’m lucky, he was as drunk as me and won’t remember either. We can pretend this never happened.
“Addie?” Noah’s gravelly morning voice freezes me in place as I’m pulling on my jeans. Damn does he sound sexy.
Stop, it. No, he doesn’t.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt out, unable to look at him. Quickly, I grab my sweater and pull it over my head.
“For what?”
“For... you know. This. Us sleeping together. I shouldn’t have?—”
Noah’s laugh cuts me off. “We didn’t sleep together.”
I whirl around. “But we’re in bed...”
“Yeah, because you were too drunk to make it home. Well... I mean so was I... I got us both a room.”
“So how did you end up in mine then?”
“Well, technically, this one is mine. I don’t think you ever went to yours.”
“But we didn’t?” I ask as he shakes his head. The relief that floods through me makes my knees weak. I sink onto the edge of the bed, head in my hands. “Oh thank god.”
“But why were we in bed together if nothing happened?” A sharp pain in my lower abdomen cuts through my confusion. “Ow, what the fuck?”
I bolt to the bathroom, yanking up my sweater and easing the waist of my jeans down. There, just above my girly bits to the left in fresh black ink, is a single word.
Mine .
“What. The. Fuck.” The bathroom door slams against the wall as I storm back into the bedroom. “You tattooed Mine on me? Are you insane?”
Noah sits up, rubbing his face. “I didn’t come out of this unscathed.” He pulls back the sheet to reveal a small silver barbell through his right nipple. “You pierced me.”
“I did what?” My mouth drops open as he stands up, towering over me. He’s got nothing but boxers on, and it takes everything I have to stay pissed. “I don’t remember doing that.”
“After we tied on axes, we decided that we both won, and we both lost. You insisted on piercing me, and I...” He gestures toward the tattoo. “We probably should’ve called it a night instead.”
“At least you can take yours out,” I say, pinching his nipple as he winces and pulls back. “This is permanent, you fucker,” I say, pointing at the tattoo.
“We were drunk. We did stupid drunk people things. I’ll cover it up or pay to get it removed, I promise. I’m sorry.” He runs his hands through his hair. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot. I shouldn’t have done all those shots with you.”
“I have to go.” I pull on my boots, my hands shaking. The hangover pounds behind my eyes, but it’s nothing compared to the storm in my head.
“Addie... I’m sorry.”
I ignore him and storm out. I don’t know who I’m more furious with.
Noah for marking me with such a possessive word, or myself for wanting it to be true.