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I awake the next morning to an agonizing pounding in my head.

My eyes flicker open slowly, their bleariness providing minimal protection against the sunlight that is streaming through the gap in the drapes. Ignoring the pain that goes shooting through my skull, I slowly turn my head against the pillow, trying to take in my surroundings.

Wait, hold on a second…

It takes me a total of three seconds to realize this isn’t my room.

I jolt upwards into a sitting position in record timing, my eyes frantically searching the area I’m contained in. Blue drapes, pale washed walls, the hardwood floor... unless my mom’s been a little too creative and redecorated overnight, this is definitely not my room.

Which immediately begs the question: where the hell am I?

My gaze trails downwards and I peel the comforter away so I can get a better look at myself. An oversized shirt which I don’t recognize hangs on my body, finishing just below my butt. My eyes widen as an automatic reflex. These are definitely not my clothes, either.

I’m in a stranger’s room, wearing a stranger’s clothes.

Oh my God, what if I’ve been raped?

No, Georgie, I tell myself furiously as I force my fast-paced breathing to return to a normal rate. In a situation like this, I can’t jump to conclusions. What I really need to do is find out what the hell is going on. Not to mention all this panicking is only making my throbbing head even worse.

What I’d do for an aspirin right now.

Last night was Connor’s party, wasn’t it? That much I can remember. Ava and I getting dressed up and sneaking in... the rest of it’s a hazy blur, roughly punctuated by memories of dancing or downing drinks. Probably not a good sign.

Then, the rattling of a door handle from across the room makes me jump violently.

Just as my head snaps in that direction, the door to what I assume is a bathroom swings open. No more than one second later, a familiar dark-haired guy saunters out, dripping wet and with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Which is about the same time my worst fears are realized.

Number one: this is Connor’s room.

Number two: I’m in Connor’s bed and have been all night.

Number three: Connor has just walked in practically naked whilst I’m lying in his bed.

Is it just me or is this slightly weird?

“Oh,” he says, when he notices me sitting up in bed with my mouth half-open. His tone remains completely indifferent, like it’s completely normal to find a half-clothed girl lying in his bed without a single recollection of last night’s events. Unless that is normal for him. “You’re awake.”

Apparently, that’s all he has to say.

“Um, yeah...” My voice sounds croaky so I cough awkwardly. “Uh... I’m in your bed.”

He shoots me a flat look as he makes his way over to his dresser. I hope he’s about to pull out some clothing, because having him almost naked just meters away from me is kind of freaking me out a little. All that’s running through my mind (well, along with the two billion other frazzled thoughts) is I hope that damn towel is secure. “Well done, genius.”

“Let me rephrase that,” I say, regaining some confidence despite how crappy I feel. “Why exactly am I in your bed?”

Connor ignores me, pulling a pair of boxers from his dresser and turning away from me to change into them. I tactfully avert my eyes, determined not to let any hint of color rise to my cheeks.

“Seriously, why?”

“God, calm down.” His sentence is punctuated by an irritating eye roll as he turns back toward me. “It’s not like I assaulted you or anything. If anything, I saved you from it. Especially with the way that Josh was groping you last night.”

“Groping me?” My jaw almost hits the floor. However, I manage to control it and avoid looking like an idiot (although that was probably achieved last night already). I’m not too keen on Connor getting a whiff of any potential morning breath, either. But seriously... I definitely don’t have any memory like that of last night.

“Yeah. It didn’t look like you were in any hurry to push him away, either.”

“Oh my God...” I raise a hand to my head, shaking it lightly. “What else happened?”

“Do you have to ask so many questions?” he snaps, but after a sigh he answers anyway. “You drunk too much and passed out in the bathroom after puking everywhere. I found you and brought you up here. Is that enough info for you?”

“Great...”

“Why were you even here, anyway?” Suddenly, his voice is cold and his brown eyes are fixed on me in a threatening glare. “You should know by now that you’re not wanted.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa...” I say, holding my hands up. “You don’t have to be so harsh about it.”

“Yes, I do. I hate you. When are you going to finally get that?”

Despite it not being the first time he’s admitted it to me, I’m still taken aback once again. The severity of his tone is just too big of a strike for me. I stare back at Connor’s cold eyes, swallowing. Then, I regain my composure and prepare myself for a confrontation.

“If you hate me so much, why did you let me sleep in your bed? You could’ve just left me on the bathroom floor.”

My comeback obviously dries up whatever insult Connor had on the tip of his tongue. Instead of responding with something smart-ass like usual, his mouth opens and closes like a goldfish as he tries to conjure up something to say. I’m unable to stop the self-satisfied smile from creeping onto my face. Usually, it’s me acting like the idiot, but right now, the tables have turned.

“I… I just…”

I smirk, enjoying his discomfort.

“Well, I wasn’t going to just leave you there, was I?” he snaps eventually. “You could’ve puked everywhere… although you already had.”

“So you’d rather have me puke in your bed?” I say with raised eyebrows.

However, it seems Connor is no longer in the mood for this conversation. Not that he was in the first place. “Look, can you just be grateful that I actually did you a favor? Next time I’ll just leave you there.”

The two of us lapse into silence. I’ve run out of things to say, and it looks like Connor has too. I look around the room, trying to seem occupied, but eventually my gaze trails downward. I take a deep breath, bracing myself for the huge sacrifice of my pride I’m about to make.

“Thanks…” I mumble. “It was a bad idea to drink so much, anyway. I just got a little carried away.”

“No kidding.” A hint of a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “You know, it’s pretty funny seeing you drunk. Did you know you talk in your sleep? You should’ve heard some of the things you were saying.”

“Like what?” I say, suddenly wary.

“Nothing much… it was interesting to hear your feelings about me, though.”

“Uh, what feelings?”

Aside from the fact that Connor irritates me beyond belief, I’m not sure I have any other feelings toward him. Apart from that it’s kind of hard to concentrate when he’s still shirtless.

“Oh, just how hot you think I am… and how much of a crush you have on me.”

My jaw drops open, and it’s not until a couple of moments later when he bursts out laughing that I realize he’s joking. Huffily, I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes at him. “Jerk. Don’t do stuff like that to me. I honestly can’t remember a thing.”

“You fell for it though.” He grins. Then, as if suddenly realizing what he’s doing, his laughter dries up and the signature moody look returns to his face. “Yeah, whatever. You’re awake now, so you can leave.”

Despite the rudeness of his words, I’m completely dumbstruck. Am I imagining things, or did Connor’s uncaring personality vanish for a second there? He actually made a joke, but not in a malicious or spiteful way. The whole thing is weird. I think that’s the first time Connor has acted… well, half-normal towards me. Is this a breakthrough or something?

Judging by the quick return of his icy glares, I don’t think so.

But it still happened. No matter how much he’s trying to cover it up.

“Okay, fine,” I say. I’m about to pull back the covers and hop off the bed, when my attention is caught on the black dress draped over the back of Connor’s desk chair. Laying below it are the black ballet flats I was wearing last night, too. “Um, did I… change, uh, myself?”

In other words, did you take off my clothes while I was passed out?

But obviously, that’s way too embarrassing to ask out loud.

“Uh, no...” Connor responds, averting his gaze. “I put the shirt on you. I thought it’d be comfier to sleep in, and besides... that dress was getting a little indecent.”

Immediately, my cheeks turn to a color I’m sure resembles beetroot.

“But I didn’t... well, you know. I didn’t peek or anything.”

He looks so awkwardly uncomfortable, I suddenly get the urge to whip out a camera and snap a picture. This other side to him is so rarely seen – heck, I didn’t even know it existed until five minutes ago – I want to keep it. Just, you know, so I have one thing over him when his infamously cocky persona returns.

“Right...” My cheeks aren’t showing any signs of returning to their regular color any time soon. And they won’t; not when the thought of Connor seeing me in my underwear is still swimming around in my head. Especially considering I’m not exactly what most males would consider “hot”.

More specifically, I’m not the owner of a set of boobs worthy of comparison to Charlotte’s double Ds.

“Well... thanks.”

“It’s okay.”

The sincerity of Connor’s voice startles me. I almost do a double take at his expression; at the hint of nervousness etched across it as he stares down at the hardwood floor. Man, this is really a different side to him. The softer, slightly vulnerable side I doubt anyone has got to see. Had I been wrong about his personality all along?

His eyes snap back to me. “Could you leave? Charlotte’s coming over and I don’t want anyone to know I let you sleep here last night.”

On second thoughts... maybe not.

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It's short, I know :( Sorry! I'm really excited to hear what you guys think of Connor after this chapter. I know he's still a jerk but have any opinions changed slightly? Let me know!

You know the drill. 100 comments = earlier upload :) Until next time!