Page 8 of Harvesting with Hayes
Forcing both my eyes open, another sharp pain hit me sideways. Along with a rush of anxious thoughts.
Where am I?
Whose room is this?
I replayed in my mind what I could remember from the night before, but it made my head throb and spin worse.
Then it hit me sideways.
Memories from the night before rushed to the forefront of my mind, like a leak springing free, water gushing out.
Hayes. Lots of spiked apple cider.
Kissing him. Asking him to spend the night with me.
Oh shit, I really asked that didn’t I?
I pulled the covers over my head and groaned.
This must be his house. Where else could I be?
The last thing I remember was walking out of the festival with him.
This must be his room!
More panic and excitement rushed through me. Okay, keep calm.
Deep breaths.
I totally embarrassed myself last night. There was no way Hayes wanted anything to do with me anymore. I could barely handle two cans of spiked apple cider. He must think I’m such an idiot.
I groaned and rolled to my side, but something hard poked me in the ribs. I pulled out my phone, the screen lighting up with text after text. It was only five in the morning. Thank God there was more time for sleep. But with another long day ahead of me at the festival, I knew I’d need some ibuprofen, a hearty breakfast, and a warm shower.
As soon as I sat up, a strong wave of nausea pulled me back down and I moaned in protest. Why did I drink so much? I despised being hungover.
I tried once more but all it did was cause me more dizziness and more nausea. I needed to throw up and fast. I grabbed the trash can beside the bed, got sick in it, and finally, when I heavedabsolutely nothing, my stomach completely empty, the nausea subsided.
I laid back down and prayed the sleep gods would pull me under.
Moments later, a knock sounded on my door before Hayes popped his head in. I wanted to crawl under the covers and never show my face again. This guy must think I’m a piece of work.
“I heard you throwing up. Everything okay? Want some water?”
“I’m okay. I’d love some water, please.”
Hayes wasn’t gone long before he walked through the doorstep and handed me a glass of cold water.
CHAPTER FIVE
Hayes
The spiked cider tasted amazing,not at all like it had alcohol in it. Easy down, and down more went. I felt good, buzzed, electrified.
Okay, maybe a bit more than buzzed. Tipsy, almost.
But kissing Hayes?
That wasn’t a mistake. Far from it.
