Disclaimer: This story was inspired by the Hannah Montana story "Just Dance" by BeautifulxxDisasterx. Hannah Montana does not belong to me.
"Miley?" I spin around at the voice, stumbling a little bit as the alcohol sloshes around my brain. Man, those fru-fru drinks Lily's been giving me all night must have been stronger than we thought, because I swear Jake Ryan's in front of me, grinning his million watt smile.
So I, being the idiot I am, smile back.
"Jake!" I pull him in for a hug, but somehow the message gets scrambled up because our lips end up touching, and his hands end up groping and to make a long story short we're halfway to happy land before I even realize the train's left the station.
"Woah, Jake." I pull away, a little breathless. I need another drink.
"Miley, have you been drinking?" Jake asks, frowning. Oh, like he and his movie star buddies never have a little fun. Just because I'm 19 and underage and with Lily and Oliver at some bar I can't remember the name of in a hotel I can't remember walking to without Daddy's permission doesn't mean we're doing anything bad.
"Maybe a liiiittle bit." I giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck again and leaning in to kiss him. God, is Jake a good kisser. Why did we break up again?
"Miley, stop. I can't… touch you when you're drunk. It isn't right." Jake steps out of my arms, taking both of my hands in his. "Where's Lily?"
"I dunno. Around!" I go for his neck again, but he pulls back.
"Let's go find her!" He suggests, sounding like he's talking to a child. I pout.
"But Jaaaaake! It's you and me and this dance floor and my dad's already back at the room and asleep so I can be out allllllnight!" I point out, glancing up to see Lily dancing on a table behind Jake. Oliver's trying to get her down, but she's ignoring him, instead accepting tips from some hottie next to him.
"I'd rather find Lily and get you two back safe." Jake argued, and I notice he's talking funny.
"Have you been drinking?" I ask, narrowing my eyes mischievously.
"No." He answers firmly, his hands trapping my wrists. Maybe he just sounds weird because I'm drinking. Ah. That makes sense.
"Wanna dance anyway?" I ask, grinding against him. "Come on, Jake. I know you want me." His grip lessons, and he looks around as if searching for help.
"Miley, this really isn't a good idea." He tries to distract me, but I know what I want and I'm not taking no for an answer. My arms end up wrapped around his neck, our bodies pressed flush against each other, our noses almost touching.
"Miley, I really shouldn't be doing this. You're drunk." He looks at me pleadingly.
"So?" I run a hand through his hair, knowing he can't resist it. "Kiss me, Jake."
"No." He answers stubbornly.
"Fine." I answer, kissing him again and feeling his response.
"Oliver'll take care of Lily. Let's go back to your room." I suggest, not really thinking straight.
---
"Sweet niblets my HEAD." I moan without opening my eyes, knowing something outside of my lids is way too bright for the dark, bad place inside of my head. "Lily, never again. NEVER. AGAIN."
A voice that is definitely NOT Lily moans beside me, and a warm arm wraps around my stomach.
That's it. I have to open my eyes.
As soon as I do I wish I hadn't. Jake Ryan is laying next to me on a bed, not wearing any shirt, snuggled into the pillows, his body pressed completely up against my back. That's when I realize I'M not wearing anything.
"Lord have mercy." I mutter, my eyes about busting out of their sockets.
"Mile, go to sleep." Jake murmurs, kissing my bare shoulder.
With that, I'm up and out of that bed in a flash, searching for my outfit from last night. As soon as I'm dressed, I'm going to find and kill Lily and Oliver. How could this have happened? How could they have LET this happen? Me and Jake, naked in a hotel room in Vegas?
"Mile…" Jake sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and I have to admit he's adorable with his sleep-tousled hair and that sleepy look on his face. "Your clothes are in the bathroom."
"Why are they in there?" I ask in a panic.
'Because that's where you took them off last night." Jake mumbles, sinking back in his pillow.
I follow his vague gesture and find everything but my underwear stacked neatly on the sink. I slip into it, feeling self-conscious even though I know Jake and I are the only ones there.
…Aren't we?
"JAKE?" I ask, flying back into the bedroom. "We're the only ones here, right? And you didn't make any tapes of last night, right?"
"Wha? Yeah, just you an' me. No tapes." He muttered, still half-asleep.
"JAKE! WAKE UP! THIS IS A CRISIS!" I pull the blankets off, not even thinking about what could possibly be hidden under them. Thankfully, Jake is wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants, but my brush with near Jake nudity makes me flush anyway, and I can't help but notice how buff Jake has gotten since the last time I saw him without a shirt on.
"Miley…" He finally sits up, reaches over, and pulls me down into the bed with him. I land with a squeak, half laying on him and hoping he doesn't notice my distinct lack of underwear. "Will you just calm down? Nothing happened."
"Nothing happened? NOTHING HAPPENED? I WOKE UP NAKED IN BED WITH YOU!" I can't help but point out.
"Well then what do you think happened?" Jake asked, starting to look amused. Sweet niblets are his eyes blue when you're this close to them…
"Did we, uh, play board games and watch Rocky & Bullwinkle? Because I've been known to stay up late and watch them. Just can't get enough of that moose and squirrel." I laughed nervously. I squeak again as Jake shifts so that he's on top of me, holding himself up by those mouth-watering biceps and triceps and whatever else makes up those man muscles.
"Miley, we didn't have sex. Call me old fashioned, but if the girl of your dreams is completely wasted, it doesn't matter if she takes her clothes off in your bathroom and crawls in your bed calling 'I been waitin' to ride you like a stallion since we met!' You don't sleep with girls who won't remember it in the morning."
"Please PLEASE tell me you're joking." I begged, covering my burning face with my hands. Lord Almighty. I am never going out partying with Lily in Vegas again. EVER.
"Nope. You wanted me." Jake teased cockily. "I never knew you had a freckle on your hip." He added pensively, rolling off me to lie on his back next to me. I flushed again, a whole new shade of red. No one has ever been this red in their entire lives. I feel like a lobster.
"Jake, please don't tell anyone about this." I begged.
"You don't want to know what else happened last night?" He asked, ignoring my plea.
"Oh God. There's more?" I ask, dreading it. Dang you, Lily!
"You don't remember last night, do you?" He asked, resting his hands behind his head, now fully awake.
"Not at all." I admitted after an internal battle whether to tell him the truth. "OH MY GOD. What's my daddy gonna say when I walk in hung-over in last night's clothes?"
"Uhh…" Jake trails off, looking unsure of himself for the first time maybe ever.
"Jake, this is terrible! You have to help me sneak in." I grab at him, go nonverbal for the first few seconds my hands touch his washboard abs, then shake him.
"Relax. We'll think of something." He comforts me, glancing at the clock. "It's only 9:30 now."
"Maybe he'll still be on his morning run." I say hopefully, knowing I'm not nearly lucky enough for something like THAT to happen.
"Text Lily and have her set up a diversion and we'll sneak you in if he isn't on his run." Jake suggested, getting out of bed. I go nonverbal again at the sight of his rippling muscles. I need to find out who his personal trainer is so I can send them a gift basket to thank them for their fine work.
"Are you sure we didn't…?" I ask again, just to be sure. He smiles that stupid Jake smile that makes my knees go weak.
"You kissed me a few times. That's all." He acted like there was more to say, but he shut his mouth and started rummaging through his drawers. "I'm going to take a quick shower first, okay?"
"Sure." I mutter, assuming with Jake Ryan in there his shower will take an hour at least. Oh well. I'm up the creek anyway. An extra hour won't matter too much either way.
I explore his room while he's showering, in search of last night's thong. No go. But I do find out that Jake wears Animaniacs boxers, owns about every article of clothing ever sold by American Eagle, and has an enormous box of condoms tucked away in his top drawer.
He's out of the shower much faster than I expect, and of course I'm still staring at the condoms when he emerges from the bathroom after a mere seven minutes, his hair wet and his Greek god's body slick with water. Of course he would come out of the bathroom wearing only a towel and smelling like freshly cleaned boy, which is, by a wide margin, the best smell of the face of the earth. We both stop short, unsure where to go from here.
"Um, I found this in the shower." He holds up my black thong, and I feel myself blush again. Why does my life always go like this? I cross the room and snatch them from his hand, trying to think of a moment – any moment – in my entire life where I was ever more embarrassed than at this exact moment. I got nothing.
"You want to know what else happened last night?" Jake asks, those blue eyes holding mine like a fly caught in molasses.
"Yeah. I do." I hear myself say.
"You said you love me." Jake half-smiled, looking like his glorious, sexy self. Dang him!
"To which you responded…?" I ask, pretending this is a normal occurrence. How is it that Drunk Miley does everything Sober Miley wants to do but is too terrified to actually go through with?
"Mile, you know what I said." I drop my underwear I'm fidgeting so much. "Look at me." I do. "I love you like Romeo loved Juliet, like Noah loved Allie, like Aladin loved Jasmine."
"Aww. Jake!" I melt. Suddenly, my imminent death at the hands of my redneck hillbilly father doesn't seem so bad. Jake Ryan loves me. ME! I grin at him. "You know, I'm sober now, and I happen to know what you've got in your sock drawer…"
And THAT'S why Hannah loves playing Vegas.