Something's wrong!

The hair on the back of my neck prickled. Sweat trickled down my back. My heart raced. It felt like I was being chased.

Suffocating!

A jolt, like tripping and falling off a ledge, startled me awake. Muzzy in the darkness of my bedroom, I tried to regulate my breathing. The wind howled outside.

A nightmare.

The type of nightmare that, the moment you open your eyes you forget exactly what happened in it, but you know it'll stay in the back of your brain as a lingering sense of unease for the rest of the day. The kind that makes you feel like you forgot something important, and someone is going to call you out for it, at any second.

I felt trapped and overheated, despite the fact that I was sleeping in the nude. The more drunk I am, the less clothes I tend to wear to bed. Legs twisted in my sheets and blankets, I kicked them free. I needed air and...

Water!

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth like glue, and my head screamed in agony. Some headache medicine would be necessary too. My stomach growled, angry at the abuse I'd put it through. I remembered throwing up, but not much after that. Though what I wanted was to forget everything that happened before the puking.

I threw an arm over my face and groaned.

Why was I so stupid? I knew nothing good could come from getting that drunk. Now I'd made a total ass of myself in front of a genuinely nice guy, ruining any chance of developing something real between us. Plus, as a colleague, work would be completely awkward after last night. I'm sure everyone would be aware of my mortification by first period on Monday.

All because I was upset over Donnie and that stupid app.

I rolled toward my nightstand, reaching for the water bottle I always kept there. Well not always, since it wasn't there right then. I felt for my phone instead, and opened my eyes once I had it.

The time was blurry. That was a good sign. At least I'd been somewhat responsible and took out my contacts last night. A snippet of the memory came back to me, as I pulled my glasses out of their case and put them on. The time looked clearer now, even if my brain was still foggy on other details.

Four in the morning.

What time had I crashed at? Probably early. Hopefully, I'd texted Laura like I said I would.

I clicked on my texts and sure enough I'd sent a quick - Home 😘 - at about nine.

And then I saw it. The notification that there had been some activity on a certain stupid app.

Had Donnie seen the match too? Did he write to me? Can I handle this when I'm already feeling shaky from my hangover?

My finger hovered over the icon.

No. That wasn't something I wanted to face with my brain splitting apart.

I finished untangling myself from my covers and sat up. The movement made everything feel worse. My head spun, ears rang, stomach churned, and skin crawled. I put my feet onto the floor, trying to steady myself, and make it all stop.

Nothing listened.

Outside, the wind moaned and icy pellets buffeted against the windows. Apparently the blizzard wouldn't stop yet either.

I shuffled bleary-eyed, through the dark, toward the kitchen chair where my work tote sat with a big bottle of analgesic stashed inside of it. The pills clattered noisily around as I pulled them out. I winced and carried them toward the sink.

Even the sound of the running water reverberated in my temples. While the water got cold, I took off my glasses, rested them on the counter, and rubbed at my eyes. I filled my cup, and gulped down some water with three pills.

And then, right as I was about to take another drink, I heard a deep voice from the hallway.

"Vivian."

Everything happened all at once.

Turning toward the doorway, I saw the large form of a man appear there in the dark. I screamed and dropped the glass from my hand. It shattered. Jagged shards flew in every direction across the floor. Water splattered onto my feet and the bottom cupboards.

The looming figure moved towards me. I screamed again and staggered backwards. A piece of glass bit into my right foot. I cried out again.

The man froze, but his voice continued, "I'm so sorry! There were no cars. The blizzard..."

Just as I realized that it was Ryan coming towards me, I remembered I was completely naked. I grabbed the two dish towels that were hanging on my oven door and used them to cover myself the best I could. One on top, one on bottom.

That was the moment Ryan seemed to realize my state of undress. He spun on his heels, giving me his back.

"Oh my God! Vivian I... I um... I didn't mean to scare you! I... I... I..."

"Ryan, can you please stop standing there stammering, and get me something bigger than a dishcloth to cover myself with!"

The back of his head nodded. "Right. Yeah. Sure thing."

He disappeared from the doorway and called out from the living room, "I'm just grabbing this throw blanket and shoving my feet into my boots. I don't want to step on any of that glass."

Blood flowed from my foot, adding to the crime scene on the floor. I mumbled under my breath, "No, we certainly wouldn't want that, now would we?"

Needing a better look at the damage, I uncovered my top for a moment to grab my eyeglasses off the counter. Ryan reappeared in the doorway, so I quickly covered myself again.

In one hand he held the blanket, and with the other he covered his eyes. "I'm back."

"Can you say that, if you never actually left?" I cocked my head.

He peeked through his fingers, showing off that damn dimple of his again. But when he noticed the blood, his smile evaporated, and his hand came off his face. "You're hurt."

Two strides of his boots, crunching over glass, and he was in front of me. A lump formed in my throat at the feeling of him so close to me in my vulnerable state.

I don't know if it was my hangover, the adrenaline coursing through me from the fright Ryan had given me, the sight of my blood, or the fact that now that Ryan was standing so close I could admire his sleep-rumpled state, which made him even more appealing - but I felt woozy.

"Ryan, I feel... I feel a little..."

As my knees started to buckle, Ryan swung the blanket over my shoulders and scooped me into his arms. I tucked my head into the crook of his neck and breathed a sigh of relief.

Ryan paused outside of the kitchen door, toeing off his unlaced boots. "Don't want to track the glass everywhere."

He carried me to the sofa, and gently lowered me onto the cushions, where he'd obviously been sleeping for the last seven hours. They still held some of his body heat. He kneeled beside me and lifted my injured foot onto the coffee table.

"I'm gonna turn that lamp on." He nodded towards the one on the left end table, closest to him.

I adjusted the blanket tighter around me, and the dish towels bunched awkwardly beneath it. I pulled the top one discretely out, and handed it to him.

Ryan switched on the light, and then leaned closer to my foot. Inspecting the cut, he dabbed some of the blood away with the cloth.

"Hmmmm. There's definitely some glass in it. But I don't think you'll need any stitches once I get it out. Do you have a first aid kit, or at least some tweezers and disinfectant?"

The dizzy feeling was coming in waves again. "You'll find everything you need in the cabinet under the bathroom sink."

"Ok. Be right back." He immediately turned toward my bathroom, obviously familiar with where it was.

Not wanting to think too hard about how long he'd been in my place unbeknownst to me, I pulled out the second towel, fixed the blanket again, and then leaned my head back to shut my eyes for a minute.

I could hear Ryan rustling around amongst my feminine hygiene products and the toilet paper beneath the sink. So much for maintaining any air of mystery. Not only had I been rejected by this gorgeous guy last night, but now he'd seen me naked, handled my foot, and knew my monthly flow is heavy.

It seemed like a good time to practice the calming breathing technique Laura had taught me.

"Smell the flower." I pulled in a deep breath through my nose, then exhaled through my mouth. "Blow out the candle."

Ryan chuckled as he walked back in with all of the first aid gear. "I know that trick. Are you nervous that I'm about the perform some minor home surgery on you? I'd offer to take you to urgent care. But considering that there's a major blizzard going on, which made it impossible for me to get a car and get out of here earlier, I'm not sure that would be the best plan of action."

I shook my head. "I'm not exactly nervous. Or maybe I should say I'm not only nervous."

"Not only nervous?" Ryan folded the dishtowel and put it under my foot. He unwrapped some gauze and turned on the light on his phone.

"So what else are you, Vivian?" He uncapped the rubbing alcohol.

I swallowed. "Well... I'm hungover to start with."

He raised his eyebrows. "I kind of figured that part out. When I knocked on the bathroom door to tell you that I couldn't get a car last night, I heard you getting sick in there."

He poured some of the alcohol onto the cut. My foot jerked back, and I hissed through my teeth.

He grabbed my ankle and pulled me towards him again. "Sorry. Should've warned you it was going to sting."

I rolled my eyes. "It's not my first time getting burned. I should have prepared myself better."

Ryan picked up the tweezers and looked into my eyes as he said, "I promise this next part won't hurt as bad as you think it will. Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be." I shrugged.

Ryan plucked the first largest piece of glass out of my foot and dropped it onto the piece of gauze he had laid on the table. "So... nervous, and hungover. Anything else that you're feeling?"

As he dug in a little deeper, I breathed in through my nose again. On the exhale I said, "Mortified."

"Got it." Ryan smiled.

Thinking that maybe Ryan wasn't as nice as I thought he was, if he found such pleasure in my humiliation, I furrowed my brow.

But then he lifted the second, smaller piece of glass up between the tweezers to show me what he was smiling about, before dropping it on the gauze too. "It wasn't so bad was it?"

I took another deep breath as he picked up the alcohol again. "So far, but you're not done yet."

He chuckled. "I meant last night. It wasn't that bad. Nothing to be mortified about."

Then he began to softly blow on my cut, while pouring the alcohol over it. It took some of the sting away.

Goosebumps rippled up my legs and down my arms. "That's easy for you to say. You weren't the one who threw yourself at a coworker and got rejected. I'm sorry for how I acted. I never would have behaved like that if I was sober."

Ryan didn't say anything. He dried the wound, before dressing it in antibiotic ointment, gauze and surgical tape.

As the silence grew, so did the lump in my throat. I wanted to cry. My voice quivered. "Well, thanks for fixing my foot. You're pretty good at that."

"Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, all soldiers get some basic medical training, like in field dressings. And I've had to use some of it in the past. Picking out shrapnel, picking out glass... there's not much difference." He shrugged.

I stood up. "I'd better start cleaning the kitchen floor."

Ryan stood too, and blocked my path. "Oh no you don't. I've got it. Least I can do after scaring you." He scratched at his chin. "And for the couch-surfing without an invite."

He quickly swept me off the ground again. "I'm taking you back to bed. I'll clean up and then I promise to actually see myself out after I'm done."

Being in his arms was disconcerting. He was like a Mr. Darcy or Rochester come to life. The strength of his muscles, the heat of his body, the way he smelled, and the soft shadow of stubble across his jaw. Every detail I noticed tempted me.

Considering how badly things ended last night, and the fact that this morning's events seemed equally inauspicious, I just wanted to put some kind of distance between us. "Don't be ridiculous Ryan. I can walk."

He shook his head and started walking toward my bedroom. "Nope. Don't want you undoing all of my hard work."

I sighed. So much for distance. I knew I couldn't let him leave my apartment in the middle of this storm.

"Well if you won't let me walk, then at least agree to stay on the couch until this storm slows down. If you couldn't get a car earlier, there's no way you'll get one now. Besides, what would happen to me if my foot started bleeding again, and I fainted, and nobody was here to be my hero?"

Ryan smiled, his teeth shining in the dark of my bedroom, and his dimple even more pronounced than usual. "So I'm your hero?"

He lowered me onto my mattress, and as he pulled his arms out from beneath me, the throw blanket shifted, nearly exposing my breast.

I made no move to fix it. "Maybe you are."

Ryan, still bent over me, looked into my eyes then shifted his gaze to my bared skin. He licked his lips and reached a hand toward the blanket. His fingers brushed against my shoulder as he pulled it back into place.

I wanted him to kiss me.

Instead, I sat up and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Thank you Ryan."

He stood back up. "Try to get some more sleep, Vivian. Don't worry about the mess. I'll take care of everything."

Then he turned, leaving me alone in my room to fall back into another fitful sleep.