"Oh, mother of all things holy, shut up, and stop the goddamn pounding," I squawked out as I attempted to sit up. The sound of my own voice made me cringe and want to curl up into a ball as needles of pain shot through my head. Stumbling to my feet, I grabbed the pair of yoga pants and t-shirt I'd left draped over the foot of my bed the previous day. I nearly fell over trying to pull them on before I shuffled my way to the front door of my rental cottage. I threw open the door, ready to poke the eyes out of the offending knockers.
"Took you long enough. You were supposed to text us, you bitch. We were worried sick," Tressa yelled, making me cover my ears with agony as my eyes watered in pain. My stomach flipped, making its own displeasure glaringly obvious. Lurching past my two astonished friends, I stumbled to the bushes that bordered the front of my cottage and expelled all the liquor I'd consumed the previous evening. My stomach muscles clenched as I continued to heave even after there was nothing left to come out. Ironically, the last time this happened, I swore I'd never puke again. The waves of nausea were not foreign to me. I had spent more time kneeling before a toilet puking than I liked to think about. Of course, those circumstances were different, and the poisons in my blood stream at that time were worlds apart. If this is what resulted from a night of drinking, I was out.
"Holy shit, that's a lot of puke," Tressa said behind me as Brittni handed me a cold rag to mop up my face. "I think you might have drunk a little too much," she said.
"Oh, you think, ole wise one?" I sniped. "Can we use our indoor voices?" I asked, holding a finger in front of my lips for emphasis.
"You have a headache?" Tressa asked, snickering behind me as I stumbled back into my cottage and sank down on the couch.
"A headache I could handle. This is a freaking jackhammer," I mumbled, letting my head fall back against the cushions of the couch. "Please tell me why I drank so many shots?" I moaned.
"More importantly, how was the sex?" Tressa interrupted impatiently.
My eyes flew open at her words. Stumbling to my feet, I hurled my way across the living room to my bedroom. I swept my eyes around the room, checking to see if I'd missed his presence in my mad bolt out of the room earlier.
"Are you expecting him to crawl out from under the bed, or maybe jump out of your wardrobe?" Brittni asked dryly, peering over my shoulder at the large wardrobe that served as the only closet in the whole cottage. I had cringed at first when I walked through the place before renting it and realized there were no closets. How anyone could function without closets was beyond me, but the charm of the cottage had overlapped the lack of storage space, and I've managed to make it work.
"You're a riot," I replied, sinking down on my bed.
"So, did Tall, Dark and Sexy do the old bang-and-bolt?" Tressa asked, surveying my room critically.
"Um, I don't know. I can't remember," I admitted mortified. How much did I drink that I couldn't even remember whether I'd had sex?
"You mean, you don't remember him leaving, or you don't remember banging, Bang-a-licious?"
"Either," I answered weakly, cupping my throbbing head in my hands while fighting a fresh onslaught of nausea. It was official. I was a slut. Not only did I pick up strange men in a bar, but I also had sex with them without remembering it.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Brittni asked, sinking down on the other side of me.
"I remember talking with you guys in the bathroom and then joining him. I also remember talking to him…Oh god," I squawked.
"What?" Tressa demanded.
"I'm pretty sure I asked him if he was going to put his trunk in my head, or his trunk in me or something," I mumbled through my fingers.
"What?" Tressa busted out before laughing. "Well, that's one way to tell him you're interested," she gasped.
"I didn't mean it. The whiskey had my tongue all tied together. I meant to ask him if he was going to put my head in his trunk. And stop laughing. It's not that funny," I grumbled as Brittni joined in her laughter.
"Oh my god, that's classic. How did he respond?"
"How do you think?" I said, peeking through my fingers that covered my face.
"Okay, so you asked him to put his trunk in you," she snorted, trying to choke down her laughter. "What else?"
"Well, after that it gets kind of hazy. I know he ordered more rounds and at one point I believe I may have suggested strip darts. God, kill me now."
"Wow, you went all out," Tressa quipped, laughing again. "So, how far did the game of darts go?"
"I have no idea. I can't remember fuck-all after that. For all I know, I probably ran around Joe's buck naked."
"If you had, my mom would have been on it like white on rice, and it wasn't included in her daily scandal rap sheet, so I'd say you're safe," Brittni reassured me, grinning wickedly. "Were you wearing that when you woke up?" she asked, pointing to the clothes I'd pulled on.
"No, I was wearing my bra and panties," I answered, looking down at the t-shirt that was on backward.
"Hmmm, I find it hard to believe he'd bother to put your bra and panties on after ravishing your body, so chances are you passed out on Prince Hotness. Judging by the glass of water and bottle of aspirin on your table, he's part Prince Charming too," Brittni observed, pointing to my nightstand. "Here, take these," she said, popping open the bottle of aspirin. "Maybe you can just ask him where he put his trunk the next time you see him," she added laughing.
"I can't, he was just passing through. He's some kind of journalist and was on his way to his next story," I said, tossing back the pills before lying back on my bed. "So, you don't think I slept with him?" I asked, not sure if I was relieved. Sure, I wanted to get that one item marked off my list, but I kind of felt like it was cheating if I didn't remember it.