Hi. I wrote this story because I was bored and procrastinating and so I'm posting it. Updates will be given in exchange for love ;) (It's up to you to figure out what that means)

Rated T for Teenage Irresponsibility

Disclaimer: I don't own IDDI and I'm only using the characters to entertain!

Jasmine's eyes blinked open slowly, and she groaned as she turned over under the covers, futilely latching on to the remaining scenes of her wonderful dream as sleep left her body. Her face was met with a mouthful of damp, stringy hair, and she spluttered a bit to get her hair out of her mouth. As per ritual after a particularly rowdy night of partying, her head started pounding as soon as her eyes saw light.

Great. Just how fucked up was I last night?

She lightly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and rolled over once again to snuggle deeper into her covers. She was pretty sure it was Sunday morning, which meant sleeping in and sleeping off the hangover she had was the best bet. She'd have to contact Lindy later that day. She knew they were supposed to have brunch, but Jasmine could already tell she wouldn't be able to make any meetings on time. Plus Jasmine knew she probably looked and smelled like shit, if the lingering stench of alcohol around her hair and pillow was any indication. Besides, when Jasmine had last seen Lindy, the blonde had also been pretty wasted, and she was definitely on the verge of making out with a cute guy. Lindy couldn't be in any better shape.

All in all, Jasmine wasn't going to be seeing her friends anytime soon. But she did have to study for an exam on Wednesday. She would have to get up eventually. Now would be the best time. Sighing deeply, she reached across her bed to reach for her phone on her dresser.

And promptly stiffened when instead of meeting the laminated oak of the dresser to search for the ever elusive cellular device, her hand pressed against the soft, but toned flesh of a masculine back.

This wasn't her room… And there was a guy in the bed with her.

She snatched her arm back when he stirred a bit and froze, clenching her eyes shut and mentally screaming.

"Please don't tell me what I think happened, happened…" she squeaked.

She swallowed deeply and pulled herself up slowly, hoping so badly that it was all just a bad dream and that now she was awake. Letting the covers fall from her body, she opened her eyes slowly to see her state.

Yupp. Naked.

"Oh shit…" she whispered, a horrified expression growing on her face. "Who the hell did I sleep with?!" she hissed.

She was almost afraid to look. Was it Billy, the baseball player who she had played pong on the same team as earlier today? He had been pretty interested in her. Well, her cleavage anyway. But she'd also danced with a couple guys on tables. They'd been pretty touchy-feely with her. And at some point, she remembered sitting on the lap of some guy who couldn't keep his hand off her leg.

She looked over tentatively at her bed companion. He was lying on his stomach with his head turned away facing the other side. His back was completely exposed and kind of sweaty. Jasmine's face turned into a cringe. He was snoring deeply and unobstructed, in complete deep sleep. He probably wouldn't even care that he slept with some random girl.

Jasmine sighed dejectedly as she stared down at the hickeys on her inner thighs and on her chest. She and Lindy tried to make a pact to limit the number of random hookups when they went to parties. Jasmine had been winning of course, but with this one, she was back in a tie with Lindy. Deels had warned her that being completely smashed at an apartment party was never a good idea.

She had two options now. One? Wait for the guy to wake up and discuss what had occurred. Perhaps in combining both their fragmented memories, they could piece a picture of what had transpired last night. Or two? Get the hell out of there and fast. Don't leave any traces of presence and never speak of this. Ever.

Option two definitely sounded more appealing. Especially since the guy in question could have been a major douche and willing to tell everyone he had slept with her. Jasmine couldn't take that risk.

Slowly, so as not to cause discomfort on her body (she was sore as hell!), she climbed out of the plush bed and searched on the ground for her cellphone. First things first, she had to check on Lindy. She knew Deels probably went back to their apartment with her flavor of the weekend (Jasmine was pretty sure it had been Brent Kevler, the starting quarterback of the team) but she'd text her quickly to see if she was alright.

Stooping down, she tapped around the carpet to try to see if she could find her cell phone. The room wasn't particularly dark, especially since limited light was seeping in through the blinds of the window, but she still couldn't see all that clearly. Especially since her head felt like there was a fog just hovering above it, restricting her senses. It was as that thought came to her that she stubbed her toe on the wooden footboard of the bed, making a loud clatter and causing toe curling pain to shoot up her foot.

"Shit…" she bemoaned, and then froze and held her breath when she heard the dude's break in snoring. He groaned lightly, then shuffled in his position. Jasmine heard the blankets rustling excessively, and she hit the ground fully, pounding in her head be damned.

She stayed absolutely still, not wanting to wake him up before she had a chance to make her getaway. It was there, semi-laying butt nekkid on the carpet that she saw the screen of her phone glinting with the notification of a new text message. Sighing in relief, she snatched it up from its position somewhat under the bed.

Now that she found her phone, all she had to do was focus on gathering her clothes and she could be out of there. She'd just call a taxi to take her back to her apartment if this place was kind of far from campus.

Ignoring the throbbing of her brain against her skull, she took to her feet.

Jasmine wasn't sure what compelled her to look back at the guy. She was almost home free and she probably would never see him again. But for some strange reason, she decided it would be okay to take one more glance. At least to see his face. She wanted to know how attractive this guy was if her drunk self was that compelled to sleep with him. She turned around.

Her jaw dropped, and she felt every single muscle and bone in her body stiffen in absolute shock.

It turned out her prediction that she would never see him again was 100% false.

Why?

Because the sweaty guy sleeping soundly in the bed, hair tousled, legs tangled in the sheets, completely oblivious to Jasmine's inner turmoil (and slight elation)…

…was Logan Watson.