Hooked Up

Chapter 8 - It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

I wake up with the biggest hangover. I groan as the pounding in my skull intensifies. I roll over and feel tender in places that can only mean one thing. That's when I remember. Shit. Fuck. What the hell did I do? What madness drove me to have sex with Landon? Alcohol, I answer my own question. It was the alcohol. I would never have been attracted to that asshole without it, right? Right?

I bury my face in the pillow, suffocating my screams in it. Fuck fuck fuck. How am I supposed to face him now? Embarrassment colors my face red. As does remembering what he did to me last night. God, he felt so good. The space between my legs awakens as I think about it, and I roll over again. Yes, it was good. Hell, it was the best I've ever had. But it can't happen again. I'm not attracted to him. I don't even like him. Not to mention he's Nate's best friend. Oh for god's sake, I'm so messed up.

Realizing I need to face him sooner or later, I get up and pull on jeans, a black v-neck top edged with lace, and a thick gray cardigan over it. My hair isn't behaving so I pull it up on a messy bun, a few strands escaping and framing my face.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door and step out in the hall. Landon's door is open and I peek in, finding it empty. Feeling a bit nervous, I descend the stairs and follow the scent of coffee into the kitchen.

Landon is sitting at the island with his back to me, wearing a dark blue long sleeve that hugs his body. I tear my eyes from him and make my way to the coffee maker, pouring myself a cup. I lean against the counter and sip my coffee, my eyes scanning the island. A bottle of kitchen cleaner stands on one end of the shining counter. My cheeks heat up as memories from last night surface.

I guess I made some sound as Landon's head whips up and turns to me. He takes in my appearance and holds my eyes, clearly thinking about last night, as well.

"Uh," I tear my eyes away from him, looking down at the hot drink in my hands instead.

"I—" he starts but my phone buzzing in my back pocket interrupts. I dig it out and see I have nine new messages. Ten. eleven. I sigh, scrolling through them. They're all from my friends, and all some version of asking if I'm okay. Miranda filled them in on my and Nick's breakup last night so that I didn't have to.

"Your boyfriend already missing you?" Landon's cold voice cuts through my thoughts. I look up and see a contemptuous sneer on his face, but his eyes betray him. There's... guilt in them.

"You really don't think much of me, huh?" I ask angrily, hurt by his question. I might have made a mistake last night, but not on the caliber he clearly is thinking about. He just raises his brows in question.

"You really think I would cheat? That I'm that shitty of a person?"

He frowns, uncertainty in his voice. "Didn't you?"

"No, I did not," I snap and pour the rest of the coffee down the drain. It has turned to dirt in my mouth.

"So you and lover boy..." he asks, leaving the question hanging. I grip the sink and pray for patience.

"We broke up," I say through gritted teeth. "Last night at the party."

Comprehension fills his face and he nods slowly. "Right before you came home shitfaced."

I don't bother answering, instead just fixing him with a tired look.

"So I was your rebound," he nods, something unrecognizable flashing in his eyes.