Emily awoke the next morning to her phone ringing far too loudly for her drugged up brain. "What?" she snapped by way of answering.

Derek might've laughed at her gruffness if he wasn't a little scared of her reaction. "Morning, Princess. Can we talk?"

"Talk," she demanded. "You already woke me up..."

"I meant in person."

She sighed dramatically. "Fine. Come over. Mother has me under lock and key anyway. Seriously, one of us isn't going to survive an entire month of living together..."


"Hey," Derek said, hands shoved deep into his pockets, feeling awkward and embarrassed – even though he'd seen her in a skimpy bikini, something about seeing Emily in her pyjamas felt intimate and almost familiar.

"I hope you have a good reason for waking me up so early," she grumbled. She was almost due for another dose of painkillers and pain was making her irritable.

"I, umm," he stammered, "I wanted to talk about the text messages you sent..."

"What texts?" She frowned. "I thanked you for the flowers."

"No, after that."

Emily pursed her lips as she stared at him. "I didn't text you after that. I took my meds and went to sleep."

He sighed, opened the app on his phone, cheeks pinking as he scrolled through the messages. He cleared his throat and started reading, "I miss u. I'm sorry about the fight."

"These meds are making me horny... I wish u were here."

Emily's mouth was hanging open in shock, but she didn't seem able to form words.

He continued reading, "You should come over – I want u to fuck me."

"I want u to eat me out, I want u to make me cum, I want..."

"Stop!' Emily nearly shouted. Her eyes were wide and alarmed. "I-I didn't..." she stuttered. "Did I...?"

He nodded solemnly.

"I think it goes without saying that those weren't meant for you."

"Then why?" he asked.

"I was drugged out of my skull, I meant to text my boyfriend, but yours was the last number I texted and I guess I got confused." She shrugged. Her head dropped to her hands. "God, this is mortifying..."

Sympathy coursing through his chest, Derek declared, "Consider it forgotten."

Emily looked up sharply, brow raised. "Just like that?" she asked skeptically.

He nodded. "Just like that."

"And you're not going to tell anyone or tease me or make dirty jokes?" she pressed.

"How dare you impugn my honour?" he said dramatically. "I am a gentleman!"

She gave a snort of laughter. "Whatever."

Undeterred, he pressed on, "And since nothing weird and awkward and sexually-charged happened between us last night, you can come out for frozen yogurt with me."

"Right now?" she asked, surprise in her voice like he'd suggested something bizarre and outrageous.

"No, next Tuesday," he said sarcastically. "Of course now." When she continued to stare at him as if he'd grown a second head, he demanded, "Give me three good reasons why not."

She opened her mouth to retort, but her brain apparently failed her in that moment, leaving her jaw hanging open slightly as she wracked her brain to come up with a reason.

"Come onnnnnnn," he wheedled. "It's not like you've got anything else to do and it'll get you away from your mother for an hour or two..."

Sighing dramatically, she had to concede that he did have a good point there.


"Everyone is staring at me," Emily whined, stabbing at her frozen yogurt with her spoon rather aggressively. "Look at the broken necked freak..." she mimicked in high-pitched mockery.

"You're not a freak," he insisted, "And no one is saying that. It's all in your imagination. If anything, they're looking at you in sympathy."

"They are not," she muttered with a roll of her eyes. "This place is worse than high school, they're all judging me, whispering about me behind my back."

He shook his head, doing his best to avoid rolling his eyes right back. "I don't know how you'd know, considering your eyes have been glued to your phone since we left the house," he pointed out.

Emily looked up sharply from her phone, cheeks pinking slightly with guilt. "I have not," she retorted.

"Em, I've seen the back of your iPhone more than I've seen your face," he replied flatly. "You're waiting to hear from him, aren't you? The guy you meant to text last night..."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, chin tipped up imperiously.

"Whatever," he scoffed. "You're a shit liar, you know?"

"Fine," she said with a dramatic sigh. "We had this really big fight when he came to visit me in the hospital and I haven't heard from him since and I feel really bad – I basically jumped down his throat and blamed him for my accident, even though it really wasn't his fault. I was totally unreasonable and just a huge bitch for no reason. I mean, he wasn't perfect either, but he didn't deserve the way I acted and I just really don't want him to leave me, you know?"

For a moment, there was silence between them while Derek digested the deluge of information that had just been dumped on him.

Seeming to realize that she may have just over-shared, Emily glanced up at him, cheeks pinking slightly as she deflated in on herself in embarrassment. "Sorry. That was..." She shook her head, not having the words.

"Hey," he said gently, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "As your friend, I'm here to listen. You're allowed to vent and bitch and complain and I'll snap my fingers and say, 'Damn girl, spill the tea – he a dog'." He bobbed his head in an imitation of sass.

That got a genuine burst of laughter from her and she punched him gently in the shoulder. "You are so fucking weird," she declared.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side and kissing her cheek. "Right back atcha," he said with a smirk.