Page 22 of Pucking Off-Sides With My Brother's Best Friend

It’s disconcerting to know that we got home and in bed, and yet I can’t recall how. I definitely don’t plan on going on another drinking adventure anytime soon.

Katarina cuts her eyes at me in a way I don’t appreciate this early in the morning. “Are you seriously telling me you don’t remember Aiden swooping in like some knight in shining armor to put us both to bed?”

I turn my head far too quickly for how much alcohol is probably still in my system. For a moment, everything looks wavy, and I have to swallow hard against the bile rising in my throat. My surprise and nausea are at war. Was my fantasy not actually a fantasy? I thought Aiden was just a figment of my imagination, but now Katarina’s telling me that last night was actually real. How the hell am I supposed to handle that knowledge?

I sit up quickly as I realize something. Dream me kissed dream Aiden. But if that wasn’t a dream, does that mean I really kissed him? The thought of it almost has me gagging—not in disgust but in embarrassment. Surely not. The thought of kissing Aiden is not unwelcome. I’m not blind. Aiden is almost too attractive to be real, and that’s something that has only become more apparent the older we get and the more he grows into his face. But that doesn’t mean he needs to know I recognize his attractiveness.

“I don’t remember that at all,” I reply, trying to keep my voice from sounding panicked. “Do you remember anything else from after we got home?” I hope Katarina can shed some light on these thoughts of mine before I worry myself to death.

She slowly shakes her head. “All I remember is my head hitting the pillow, the back of my eyelids, and then waking up with a massive hangover.” I’m happy she feels as bad as me, considering it was her idea to go out in the first place. “The next time I get some great idea about going out all night, slap me.”

“Oh, I one hundred percent will.” How people manage to do this more than once in their lifetime is crazy to me. I can’t imagine doing this again, not with how badly I feel now. Plus, I don’t need the worry of throwing myself at every good-looking dude hanging over me either. Hangovers themselves are rough enough.

“We are never doing this again.”

Katarina gives me a look. “ Agreed. Now shut up and go back to sleep.”

I think about smacking her, but going back to sleep sounds perfect. I close my eyes and try to ignore the image of Aiden leaning over me that floats through my mind. There’s no way I kissed him. Drunk or not, I know how bad of an idea that would be.

As I lay here trying to doze back to sleep, I piece together the fragments of last night. When did I become this person? The girl who drinks to forget, who’s so scared of her own feelings that she needs liquid courage to face them?

I think back to theAurora,planning her perfect wedding to theperfectguy. She’d be horrified at themenow.

But you know what? That’s okay. Because that Aurora was living someone else’s dream. This Aurora, hungover and confused as she is, is finally starting to figure out her own.

Waking up now is much easier than earlier. Katarina’s Beside me, playing around on her phone. When I turn my head toward her, she pauses and looks at me.

“I’m starving.”

I snort at her words. “So, make yourself something to eat. You know where everything is.”

“Yeah, but that would mean getting up, and I don’t want to do that right now.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “Make me food, please.”

“No,” I grumble, nudging her back. Truthfully, I’m also hungry, but I don’t feel like moving either. If I could order something in and have it delivered to my bed, I would. It would make things so much easier. When Katarina turns on the puppy dog eyes, I groan in defeat. “Ugh, fine. But I’ll only cook if you come to the kitchen too and help me remember what the hell happened last night.” I sit up, ignoring the protest from my aching head.

Katarina shrugs but follows me out of the bed and into the kitchen. It takes me a few minutes to get comfortable being vertical again, and I lean against the counter until the room finally stops spinning. The refrigerator is mostly stocked, but I figure it’s easiest to keep it simple and make a basic breakfast.

“Eggs scrambled good for you?”

“Sure,” Katarina replies as she takes a seat at the small dining table. She leans her head on her hand, her eyes lazily tracking me as I move this way and that. The scent of bacon perks me up, and by the time I’m scrambling the eggs, my stomach starts to growl. “Oh my god. I can’t wait to eat.”

I hum in agreement before remembering that I’m supposed to be getting clarification about the events of the night before.

“So, remind me. What exactly happened last night?”

Katarina rolls her eyes. “Are you seriously asking me this again? Do you really not remember?”

I glance at her over my shoulder. “I’m serious. I don’t remember a thing after we left the bar. I woke up super confused about being in my own bed even.”

We lapse into silence, and the only sound that can be heard is the scraping of the utensils in the pan. I’m patient, waiting for Katarina to speak as I finish cooking and slide the food onto plates for us both. She doesn’t speak again until after we start eating.

“Did anything ever happen between you and Aiden before you started dating shit-for-brains?”

I have to fight not to spit the food out of my mouth. I chew furiously. “What? Why do you ask?” A terrifying thought comes to me. “Did something happen last night?”

Katarina looks at me shrewdly before lifting another bite of food to her lips. “If I said yes, would you go for it?”

“Go for what?”

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