Chapter 7 - The One with the Hangover
Katie moaned softly as her eyes tried to open. The pounding in her head wouldn't let her sleep and wouldn't let her get up. She reached over to check her alarm clock, and her hand hit something hard and warm. Her eyes flew open in fear, and she realized that she was not in her bedroom. Nor was she alone.
Shit.
She cursed mentally as she looked beside her and saw Oliver in the faint light that escaped around the curtains. He was sound asleep on his back and snoring softly. His torso was bare, the duvet covering his bottom half. She started hyperventilating. She slammed her eyes shut, telling herself it was a bad dream. When she finally mustered the courage to peek out, he was still there.
Damn, damn, damn!
Once she calmed herself enough to think, she noted he really was beautiful - this was likely due to the fact he was sound asleep and not talking. Her gaze started from where the duvet met his body and worked its way up. His body was built like a brick wall, and was just as strong. She had to tell herself to stop staring before she touched his strong jaw that was just starting to show a hint of a 5 o'clock shadow.
Careful not to wake him, she peered over the side of his bed, looking for any sight of her panties. Doing so, her vision spun and her head throbbed with the movement. She groaned loudly. She clapped her hand to her mouth quickly, praying that he wouldn't wake up. How many had she had?
He stirred slightly, rolling onto his side, facing her. She took the pillow she had slept on (passed out on?), and stuck it next to him. His reaching hands clutched it and pulled it toward him. He settled back into a peaceful sleep, smiling as he did so. Her eyes fell on his hands and she thought about those hands - how they held her, touched her... His tenderness was unexpected.
She slid off the bed with a small shake of her head, grabbed her panties and her top and walked into the adjoining washroom.
Her bright red hair was a wreck; her mascara had run down her face. She washed her face quickly, feeling slightly better.
She peeked out of the bathroom, cursing again. She should not have gone home with him. It was unprofessional, and more importantly, unlike her. Something about him overwhelmed and confused her. Vainly, she tried to restrain her hair, giving up when it was apparent that it was a useless venture. She went out to find her pants and get the hell out.
"Morning tiger," he said grinning with a lightness she had never seen. Gone was the cold Oliver, replaced with something she couldn't reconcile with his normal character. He sat up in the bed, gazing at her, letting his bare chest come out from behind the blanket.
She shuddered at the sentiment, although appreciated the view. "Morning."
"Not staying?" he asked as she sat down to pull on her slacks. She didn't trust her stomach contents to stay hidden if she bent down that far. She felt one of his hands run up and down her back softly.
"No. I don't think I've ever been this hungover."
"Come on, I could make you breakfast," he said, far too cheery.
Katie swallowed hard. The thought of food brought bile into her mouth.
"No, I'm going to go home, make a hangover cure and sleep."
"Sleep? I could show you sleep," he said with a grin and a wink.
"I believe that's what you tried to show me last night," she retorted as she stood cautiously, buttoning her pants.
"You're sure you want to leave?" He pulled back the sheets to reveal himself just as naked as she had been. He moved toward her, his hands grabbing at her. She sat back down on the bed, more concerned about the rolling in her stomach than Oliver's advances. The worst damage had already been done.
"Oliver…" she whispered as his lips found her throat.
His teeth nipped her ear. "Stay… I meant what I said last night, that I made a mistake." His words were barely above a whisper. "Let me make it up to you." Her body warmed, and she was sorely tempted to lie back down to stop the throbbing in her head, and to let his fire consume her.
He swept the tendrils of hair that were escaping the band off her shoulder and kissed the ridge of her shoulder blade. One of his hands softly traced down her spine, and she remembered his uncharacteristic affection as he undressed her.
"Oliver..." she whispered again, still with no conviction. His scent was surrounding her, intoxicating her in a way that couldn't be blamed on alcohol.
"This isn't a trick," he whispered back, "Katie, I care about you." He pulled her further into him, nuzzling her neck and sliding his hands into hers.
The warmth of his hands, holding hers tightly, made Roger pop into her head suddenly. She gasped, ran to the bathroom, and emptied her stomach contents violently.
When she was finished, Oliver handed her a glass of water. "I'll take a rain check," he said, an amused tone infused in his voice. She wiped her mouth, and glared up at him. He had been kind enough to put his bottoms on.
"Don't count on it." She left quickly after that, with his deep laugh following her.
Feeling faint and sick to her stomach, she arrived home, and promptly tore apart her pantry looking for her hangover cure ingredients.
"Where were you?"
Katie screamed and dropped the jar of dried ginger she had been holding. It shattered on the ground. Glass and ginger flew everywhere.
She turned to see Kiera sitting at her kitchen island, smiling smugly and filing her nails. Had she been there when Katie had gotten home, and just had not noticed her?
"That was my last jar! What on earth are you doing here?"
"I came by this morning to see if you were okay after yesterday. When I couldn't find you, I decided to stay. Got me curious. Where were you, sweet sister?" Kiera's grin left no doubt in Katie's mind that she knew where her 'sweet sister' was.
"I went out."
"I see that," Kiera mocked, noticing Katie's disheveled everything. "With who?"
"Kiera, please don't make me say it."
"Hmm. Judging by the state of your hair and the gross amount of shame in your eyes, I'd say our lovely Mr. Wood."
Katie groaned and buried her face in her hands.
"How good was it?"
Katie shrugged.
Kiera shot back a disbelieving glare.
"I don't know, Kiera. I'm tired and hungover."
"Don't be like that. Details!"
"It was fantastic, okay? Literally, the best I ever had. There, are you happy?" Katie all but screamed.
Kiera laughed. "I knew it!"
"From what I remember of it anyway."
"You were that drunk?"
"Very, and now I have the worst hangover of my life," Katie grumbled and magicked the broken jar back together. Not much of the ginger could be saved. Might be enough for a small batch of the soothing, refreshing hangover cure.
"I will make that up for you," Kiera said, coming over to stand by her sister. She promptly took several steps away. "Please go shower, you smell like a bar bathroom."
Katie made her way to her shower, cranking the hot water. She undressed carefully, making sure not to upset her stomach or precarious balance. She let her hair down and grabbed her toothbrush, scrubbing out her mouth until the steam from the water made the mirror fog up. Then she stepped into the boiling stream of water, letting the heat and pressure take her mind off everything for a few brief moments.
Katie stood in the shower for 10 minutes, just letting the hot water flow over her. She sat on the small seat and turned down the hot water a touch - her skin was bright pink. She felt dirty, yet free, a strange sense of relief washing through her. Was this what it took to wash Oliver out of her system? She felt that it may have helped. Last night had been a bittersweet night. On one hand, there was another side to Oliver she didn't think existed. One that was soft and loving, there was not one moment last night that she felt like all his energy and focus wasn't on her. On the other, her attraction to Oliver was strictly physical. She didn't think she could ever feel more than that for him, even with this new information. Although the sex was good, she didn't feel an emotional connection.
What would happen now? What should she do? Should she talk to Oliver about it, let him know that it was only that once? What would he do? Be mad? Happy?
And what would happen at work? What would happen with Roger? She knew beyond any doubt that Oliver would talk about his conquest in the locker room. She had overheard enough of those conversations from the men on the team. Roger would be there. The thought paralyzed her. Fear made her blood run cold and made her shiver.
Why though? Roger had never really made any sort of move on her, yet the visceral fear of him knowing that she had been with Oliver nearly paralyzed her. She now knew how right Kiera was, that she had a crush on Roger. The way she felt around Oliver was not the same as what she felt around Roger.
She washed and dried mechanically and went out to see where Kiera was.
"You look like you've see a ghost."
"What happens when Oliver tells everyone that we slept together?"
"You're an adult, no one will care. Besides, give him the benefit of the doubt."
"Seriously?"
"No, I was just trying to be positive."
"This is going to be the worst."
Katie walked to her couch and threw herself face down on it. She moaned loudly as it jolted her stomach and head.
"Stop being dramatic and sit up," Kiera said, handing her a mug as she sat up.
"It was a one and done. That's it. Oliver just needs to know that." Katie could feel the conviction, the truth in the statement. In giving into him physically, she now knew that there wasn't anything there but that.
"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."
Katie made a noise as if she were sure the opposite would happen.
"What about when Roger finds out?"
"Did you two suddenly become exclusive?"
"Well, no, but I don't want him to think that I just jump around with anyone who offers. Especially with Oliver. They don't get along."
"It's not like Roger put a claim on you. He can't be mad at anyone but himself."
"I know, but..."
"Katie, it will all work out. And if it doesn't, at least you know where you can get a good lay."
