Cotton mouth was real and I was experiencing the worst case of it that I had ever had. I hadn't even had the courage to open my eyes. I could feel the sun pouring in from the bedroom window. I could feel the heat, I could feel the pounding in my head before I'd even moved. No part of me wanted to endure this day. I wanted to skip right over it because I would have the worst hangover to date.

A light tickle at the back of my neck startled me into a more alert state and I leaned up on an elbow, peering over my shoulder to find Leroy curled up behind me. I didn't even realise that he had an arm draped across my waist but my eyes slowly travelled our tangled state as I squinted and smacked my lips together, attempting to moisten my mouth.

As delirious as I felt, I appreciated how handsome he looked behind me. He still wore his t-shirt and jeans which I assumed was for my benefit. He was a gentleman. His hair was a mess and his lips sat parted while he breathed shallow and low. I groaned when my head began to thud even harder and without warning, the room began to spin. I quickly dropped so that I could seek refuge against the mattress but I must have wobbled as I went down, because my head collided with the side table drawer.

"Fuck!" I yelped, grabbing the side of my head as Leroy startled awake behind me. I mumbled an apology about my language as I rolled into the pillow and whimpered in pain.

He was fast, so fast because in a split second he had leaped over me and sat on the floor beside the bed, his hands clutching at my own which were holding my face. As if the headache I had before wasn't bad enough, now it felt like I was going to have to just finish off the job and knock myself out entirely.

"Ellie?" Leroy questioned with a little panic in his voice. "You hit your head?"

"You didn't hear that?" I groaned with sarcasm. "I think the neighbours heard it."

"You're bleeding a little." He wrapped a hand around me and helped me sit up. The entire time I kept my face buried in my hands. I felt like it would help with the pain. But I was also horribly ashamed of the tragic mess that I had become.

"Wait here a second."

I leaned against the bed's headboard and breathed through the immense pain that was starting to make me feel nauseous. Leroy returned a moment later and I peeked through my fingers to find him holding a first aid kit. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hair still a mess and his shirt wrinkled. But he looked beautiful nonetheless. I was sure that I must have looked like I needed rehab.

"Can you move your hands for me for a moment?"

I did as he asked and pushed back my hair in an attempt to smooth it out a little before my hands dropped into my lap. My thumbs twiddled with embarrassment as he sat a little closer and dabbed at the warm blood on my face. He was so gentle, wiping it off with a wet wipe before he put a plaster on the damage that I had done.

"Here," he handed me a fresh wipe, "for your hands."

I glanced down and noticed the little bit of blood that coated the tips of my fingers. I cleaned them up and gave him a sheepish smile. "Thanks."

He gave me a small grin and leaned over to the side table drawer where a glass of water and Advil were waiting. I sighed with appreciation as I reached for the items. But that's when the memories came flooding in and I squealed with shame, slapping a hand to the already sore forehead.

"I threw up on your mother's feet," I almost whispered, the heat in my cheeks could compare to the sun and all I wanted to do was cease to exist. "I — I — what — oh my g—"

"Els," he pressed a finger to my lips, silencing the blubbering with a small smile, "it's alright. It was just her slippers. She's got a dozen pairs. And she hated that vase. She kept it there out of respect for Dad who gave it to her. She'll probably thank you."

"I had forgotten about the vase." I lifted the sheets up to hide my face. "She's going to send me home right? Tell my Mom?"

"She won—"

"I won't."

Leroy turned around and I peered past him to find his mother standing at the room's threshold. She was dressed in a beautiful coral long-sleeve dress that had a thick belt around its middle. Her feet were bare but she wore a large sun hat and held a clutch in her hand.

"You can relax sweetheart." She smiled and walked further into the room. "I've had to deal with Noah and Leroy on a fair few occasions when they've had too much to drink. But I did assure your mother that you would be safe here."

"I know. I'm so sorry—"

She held up a finger to signal that she wasn't finished and I gave her an apologetic glance so that she could continue.

"This can be kept between us. BUT. There will be no more drinking. Curfew will not be extended and if this happens again, I will have to phone your mother and make arrangements for you to be sent home."

I nodded so fast and instantly regretted the enthusiasm as my head pounded. "I swear that it won't happen again."

She nodded, satisfied that I meant it. After the night that I'd had, I would gladly never consume a drop of alcohol ever again. I felt terrible; I was sure that I looked terrible and I made a total fool of myself.

"Your father and I are going to church," Eleanor stated as she headed back towards the door. "I'll bring lunch home."

She left, leaving the door open. Leroy turned back around to face me and smiled. "That could have been worse. Right?"

"So much worse. Your Mom is a godsend."

"She's not bad."

I watched him with a small smile as he stretched his hands above his head and yawned. His arms flexed and phew, I might be lacking brain function right now, but I still seemed to be capable of thinking very vivid thoughts.

"I could use a shower," I murmured, still salivating over his toned, taut arms and shoulders. He turned to me and nodded.

"Of course. There's a couple of towels in there waiting for you." He stood up and offered me a hand.

"Do you think I'm a mess?" I questioned with a small voice as he pulled me up. Being on my feet was a little harder than I thought it would be but Leroy kept me upright with his arm around my waist. I didn't want to be so close to him when I hadn't showered. But he continued to regard me with affection.

"No. I don't think that," he laughed and we began towards the bathroom. "You just had a little bit too much to drink. Happens to the best of us."

I felt grateful for his understanding. It would have been fair of him to be embarrassed or disappointed in me for being so ridiculous last night. But without failure, he had been tender and gentle and taken care of me throughout it all.

He told me that he was going to shower downstairs and would be back in half an hour or so. I could easily have spent that much time in the warm water, washing off the alcohol and regret. But I didn't want to keep him waiting. So I washed up as fast as I could, scrubbing with the loofah as though it would physically remove the humiliation that I felt over the entire night. I washed my hair and brushed my teeth, which aided me in feeling a little fresher once I was dressed in a camisole and some cotton shorts.

Leroy returned to the spare bedroom in a fresh set of clothes half an hour later, as he said he would. His hair still sat a little damp, the strands sticking to his forehead as he sauntered in wearing a pair of sweats and a muscle shirt.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Much," I breathed a dramatic sigh and we both laughed.

"I figured you wouldn't be up for a lot today," he observed and walked towards me, closing the distance as he encircled his arms around my waist. I subtly inhaled his fresh, masculine scent and rested my hands on his shoulders. "Should we watch a DVD downstairs, have some snacks and just — chill out?"

"I'd love that." I blushed as he stared at me without even a blink. His gaze travelled my face and settled on my parted lips.

"That's good. We have things to do tomorrow, so I would love some time to ourselves," he informed me, his intense stare still on my lips. I flicked my tongue out to wet them a little and his grip around me became noticeably tighter.

"I can't stop thinking about our night together," he murmured, leaning in a little closer. "Your body, your screams, your—"

His words were cut off as he swallowed and his breathing became a little deeper. I couldn't handle what happened to me when he spoke like that. His words did wild things to me and it had been bad when it was on the phone. But pairing it with the lust in his gaze. . . I was a goner.

I didn't wait another moment for him to make the first move; I tiptoed up and kissed him. His hand tightened on my back, his fingers dragging inwards as he bunched the camisole in his grip. He pushed his tongue against mine, his hands began moving with purpose, travelling the curves of my frame. His touch made me quiver and I moaned into his intoxicating mouth. He was the perfect hangover cure.

He began walking us back towards the bed and my stomach felt like it was doing backflips as he pushed me down, never disconnecting our kiss, never removing his hands, never faltering. He kept one hand beside my head, kneeling between my legs as his free hand danced over the bare skin of my midriff. He slipped a hand under the material of the cami and dug his fingertips into my waist.

"Are you feeling okay?" he murmured, pecking me between his words so that he could continue kissing me. He dragged his mouth downwards, nipping and sucking at the skin on my neck. I remembered that I was meant to be answering a question but I could barely remember my own name.

"I'm fine," I answered with a breathless gasp.

"Would you like me to touch you?" he questioned with a rasp in his voice.

I moaned as his hand grazed my shorts between my legs. "Yes, please."

His mouth was back on mine and he dipped his hand into the band of my shorts just as the sound of the door slamming came from downstairs, Noah's voice hollering loud and obnoxious. Leroy stilled, we both did and then he cursed as he stood up and moved away from the bed.

His arousal was very clear from where he stood and I stayed on the bed, directing my gaze to the ceiling as I resisted the urge to fan my face. I was disappointed but I reminded myself that we had all summer. I glanced back at Leroy and he stood with his hands behind his head, biting his lip as he swept me with his hooded gaze.

"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch," he chuckled without humour.

I sat up and shrugged a shoulder as I ruffled out my wet hair.

That's not the only thing that's wet.

"Okay, should we go downstairs and watch a movie?" I stood and blushed at my own dirty thoughts. It amazed me that in the heat of the moment I felt like doing the wildest things. But I still felt nervous otherwise.

"Yeah," Leroy gestured at the door, "go ahead. I'll be down in five when this has gone down."

I glanced at where he pointed and giggled with red cheeks.