Page 5 of Duty Became Desire

Chapter four

Skylar

Igroaned as I tried to roll over, finding the sunlight streaming into the room. How damn obnoxious was that? I mean, why the hell was it so bright? And why the hell was my head pounding in such a fashion?

I peeked an eye open, only to shut it just as fast, trying to ease the hammering in my head.

“What the hell?” I whispered, knowing I couldn’t speak louder than that without the sound cracking my pounding skull wide open.

“Ow, fuck,” I muttered, holding my head in my hand.

How the hell was I supposed to do anything when I couldn’t move? Couldn’t talk?

And if I wasn’t mistaken, I could have sworn Demi wanted to go do something today.

At this rate, that shit wasn’t happening.

How many damn shots did we do last night?

I tried to count in my head, but lost track after the fourth or fifth round. I remembered James and Alec being there. I remember the game, maybe some dancing and the rest….the rest was a complete and utter blur.

I might have to text James, or Demi, certainly not Alec, to try and figure out what happened. Maybe they weren’t in as bad a shape as I was.

With another mental curse, I tried to sit up, nearly collapsing back down again.

“What the hell?” I repeated, now braving the light and the pounding to fully open my eyes. I looked around the room; it was mine.

I glanced over at the nightstand, seeing the time to be 10:32 and freaked.

I never slept in that late.

With a jolt, I managed to sit up, groaning at the weight that landed on my legs.

A weight due to an arm. An arm that was attached to a body.

A naked body at that. That had tattoos screaming all over his chest and shoulder. That I would have loved to have traced. It also went up the neck to a face.

A face that was quite cute and peaceful, almost making me smile.

Except, I couldn’t smile.

I wouldn’t.

Because that face was Alec.

Why the hell was he in my bed?

And why was he naked?

With a jolt, I glanced down at my own body, nearly freaking out over the nakedness I saw.

“Oh my god,” I cried out, starting to panic. “This is not good, oh my gosh, this is not good, so not good,” I muttered, piecing all of that together into one long mantra, repeating it over and over.

I swallowed hard, starting to shake at the implications that were fast roaming through my mind.

“What am I going to do? Oh, what the fuck am I going to do? I can leave. Sure. Except it’s my room,” I whined, trying to ease the panic back. And failing.

Epically.

---