I woke up with two palms splayed out over my ass, holding me against a very solid, very warm, male body.

What the fuck did I do last night?

I resisted the urge to open my eyes – rookie mistake, guaranteed to make me dizzy. Wake up first, eyes later.

"What are you doing moping around your room?" My sister asked over the phone.

"I have no friends." I sighed.

"Well that's your fault babe," Lisa said, "but if you really want, you can come to this party with me, if you promise not to embarrass me."

"Please," I snorted, "you're the embarrassing one."

Okay, so I went out with Lisa. That doesn't sound terrible.

I accepted a beer from a cooler, and another after that, catching the eye of a gorgeous blonde guy.

Is he the butt grabber?

One, two, three shots of tequila, chased with wedges of lemon that reminded me of Harry.

Dancing on a table shrieking with laughter before blonde boy gave me a shoulder ride around the party.

Following him outside when I wanted to come down, sharing a joint on the porch, the wind blowing the smoke between the falling leaves.

He kissed me and he tasted like beer. I let him grind me on his lap a little bit, and then I left to find Lisa because he did nothing for me.

Fuck, right. The recollection might be blurry, but I definitely remember telling him to finish himself off.

"I wanna go." I slurred. "I'm gonna get a cab."

I took off the shoes that were giving me blisters, using them to hail a cab, stumbling into it, stumbling out of it, throwing up into the bushes at the school's entrance.

That was a rough night. But what did I do after? Why did I leave the party so early? Whose hands were on my butt? Whose bed was this?

I cracked one eye open. Whoever they belonged to, I wasn't naked. That was definitely a good sign. I was wearing soft grey sweatpants and an oversized yellow t-shirt, wrapped up snug in a crisp white duvet.

That was stupid – who buys a white duvet? You'd have to work so hard to keep it clean all the time and…oh fuck.

Only one person was neurotic enough to keep a pristine white duvet like this.

"Fuuuuuuck." I whispered, looking around. Elliot, still sound asleep, his lips parted and his hair tousled.

Okay, wow. This was bad. I wracked my brain for any recollection of how I got to this point.

My dress sliding up my thighs as I straddled him.

"The least you could do is fuck me."

The heat as I rocked against his cock, only covered by flimsy pajama pants.

The flush of his cheeks and the way his eyes widened as I moved against him.

"I want you."

Uh-oh. I didn't have much more recollection than that, the vaguest sliver of a memory.

I lifted the sheets a little bit, peeking under them. Phew. He was wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt as well. Good sign. Very good sign.

I moved to sit up and he groaned underneath me. Oops. I was draped all over his morning wood.

The fact that I was practically on top of him, held securely by the ass, was definitely not a good sign.

"Elliot?" I croaked. Oh god, I sounded disgusting. I sort of remembered him wiping all my makeup off (he must have, to have allowed me to sleep under his pristine duvet) so I probably looked disgusting as well.

"Mmmmm.." He mumbled. Not helpful.

"Elliot!" I hissed again.

"Wha?" Elliot murmured, "go back to sleep."

"Did we…" I bit my lip. For some reason I didn't push myself off of him, probably because I was really hungover and this was really comfortable. He'd moved his hands from my ass to my back, and the circles he was making along my spine felt incredible.

"No, you came in here wasted, tried to fuck me, told me how pretty I am - thanks by the way - and then passed out cold." He yawned. "Now can I go back to sleep?"

I took a moment to digest this new information. Okay. I didn't sleep with him. Good. But I tried to?

"And you rejected me?"

"You were wasted Elise."

Oh. Well, I couldn't deny that.

"But you told me last week that you wanted nothing to do with me."

"And I also apologized for that last night," he said.

"Well I'm still mad." I huffed.

"Then you should probably get up." He offered, but he hadn't moved, his fingers still looping around my back in delicate circles. The bed was so much softer and fluffier than the one in my dorm room and he was so deliciously nice smelling and warm; my head was spinning and my stomach was churning and getting up would probably make me start dry heaving. Staying put seemed like a clear choice. It wasn't like we hadn't already woken up together once before.

"Okay fine but this doesn't mean I forgive you." I muttered under my breath. "It just means I'm really comfortable."

I felt his chest rumble with laughter and I frowned.

"Okay, well go back to sleep then," he whispered. He slid his palms back to my ass.

"Hey!" I grumbled.

"Figured it was worth a shot." He moved his hands up to my back and I nestled back under the covers.

When I woke up properly he had disappeared and I was sprawled out across the mattress, face down. I checked my phone. 1pm.

"Elliot?" I called out for the second time that day. This time I sat up, rubbing my eyes as I looked around the room. I'd seen it before, of course, but I'd certainly never been sprawled out in his bed.

"Ughhhh," I groaned, "What have I done?"

I got no response, which wasn't surprising seeing as the room was empty. He had one of the upgraded suites with the adjoining bathroom, and I wondered if I could shower. Was that weird? I bit my lip. Probably weird. I should just go.

I was gathering my things when I noticed a note on his desk chair.

Be back soon. Towels & toothbrush are in the bathroom for you. - E

The steam evaporated my hangover in a way that only a sizzling hot shower could. I wrapped myself in the big white towel he had hanging from the rack.

Fuck. This was so fucking confusing. Something had made my drunken mess of a self choose to come back here last night. This was no coincidence. Drunk Elise did terrible things, but she always ended up where she needed to be.

Was this where I needed to be? He blew me off when I needed him most. He did say he apologized, although I didn't remember that part. The weirdest part was that I couldn't shake this sense of giddiness. The giddiness of being in his room, in his bed, in his arms, giddiness I couldn't quash...and didn't want to.

He'd left me a toothbrush, still in the dentist-provided plastic wrap, a clear sign that I should not use his toothbrush. I sort of wanted to do it anyway but I didn't, careful not to leave any extra toothpaste foam in his pristine sink. I rolled his sweatpants up at the ankles and ran my fingers through my damp hair.

He was back when I came out of the bathroom, brandishing a pair of coffees and a croissant, his hair neatly pushed back, revealing the perfect line of his nose and those beautiful fucking cheekbones. Mmm, this was definitely a contributing factor to why I came back last night.

"Morning." Elliot was way too damn chipper for this time of day.

"How are you so awake?" I flopped back onto his bed, in fetal position. "Do you have any Advil?"

I heard him chuckle. "Well, I wasn't out drinking last night."

He tossed me a bottle and motioned to the glass of water on the bedside table that I guess he'd put out for me last night.

"Ugh," I grit my teeth as I tossed the pills back, "I'm so sorry for bothering you last night. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm pretty sure I hurled in the bushes by the entrance gate."

Elliot snorted. "Don't worry about it. You were a mess, you're lucky you didn't go anywhere else or you would have gotten in so much trouble. Anyway, we're even now."

I groaned again.

"Don't eat this on my bed." He passed me the croissant.

"Watch me." I waved it at him, but got up to sit on top of his desk, perched beside him in his desk chair. I sighed happily as I took a gulp of coffee and a flaky mouthful of pastry.

"Whatcha working on?" I motioned to his computer.

"AP government."

I sipped my coffee. "Sounds exciting."

"It isn't, but somebody stopped me from finishing it last night, so I have to get it done."

"Oh, oops. Sorry," I mumbled. Whoops, I sort of forgot that he also had a life outside of me. So selfish.

"It's okay."

"I should go," I said. I suddenly felt bad for barging in here last night and ruining his night.

"Wait." He caught me by the wrist as I moved to hop off the desk. "Look, I said this last night, but I'm sorry. That bullshit with Harry shouldn't have stopped me but I got caught up in it and it was really stupid of me. You called me a shithead last night and I deserved it."

"I called you a shithead?" I dissolved into laughter.

"Yeah, you did." He grinned. "Although you also said I was pretty, so I guess that's okay."

I flushed bright pink. "Ugh, I'm a terrible drunk."

I watched him work while I finished my breakfast, smiling at the click of his fingers on the keyboard, the furrow of concentration on his brow.

"What are you staring at?" He asked after a few minutes.


The corner of his mouth turned up a little. Elliot stretched his arms.

"You mentioned last night that Hannah was still mad at you?" He asked.

I sighed. "Yeah, it sucks."

"What are you going to do about that?"

"I don't know, honestly." I shrugged, hopping off of his desk and flopping facedown on his bed. "Going to my room is shitty right now, I've sort of been avoiding her."

"So stick around," he tossed me the TV remote. "I've got work to do though, as much as I like you staring at me."

I nodded, flipping through channels absently as he sat back down at his desk.

What was I doing? I shouldn't be here. We weren't dating. We weren't even really friends anymore.

"Uh, I should really go…" I trailed off, gathering my things.

I moved to leave.


Elliot caught me before I reached the door, pressing his palms on either side of my face, pressing his lips to mine, hard. I stopped, my heart pounding, standing shocked as his tongue worked its way into my mouth, sagging against him, opening myself to him, too tired of fighting it.

I whimpered as he pressed me into his wardrobe door, his fists grabbing at the soft cotton of the sweatpants I was wearing.

My arms looped around his neck and I hopped up to wrap my legs around his waist. His hands slid to my ass again, a whisper of where they had already been this morning, his fingers digging into my skin.

"What's this all about?" I panted, my head tipped back as he kissed my neck.

"I'm not fucking this up again Elise. I'm not letting you leave without telling you that I want you. I want you properly. I wanted you before you broke up with Harry, and I want you now."

My heart skipped and spluttered and I grinned the sort of giddy, goofy grin that only comes with something – or someone - very, very good. For once I didn't care that I was falling for him, or how scary that was. For once I wanted everything out in the open, my feelings for him spilling out over my carefully drawn boundaries.

"I want you too," I said, "so bad."

He crushed his lips against mine, his palms still splayed across my head, fingertips sending electric jolts through my scalp whenever he moved them.

"Elise, can we…" he muttered against my neck, "finish what you started yesterday?"

"Yes, yes, now," I whined, my hips rolling up into his. He carried me back to the bed, his hand sliding underneath my (his) sweatpants. Elliot groaned thickly.

"Where are your underwear Elise?"

"I dunno, your laundry basket probably."

"Haven't you gotten me in enough trouble for that?"

"You like it."

He was distracted by sliding my shirt off, looking like he would spontaneously combust at the sight of my naked breasts, his fingertips quivering as he drew them across my collarbones, down my chest, resting them at my hips.

I pouted. "You're not naked, this hardly seems fair."

Elliot relinquished his grip on my hips as I dragged his t-shirt over his head, exposing the smooth planes of his chest. I moved to straddle him, my nipples grazing his chest. His eyelids fluttered shut and his mouth fell open as I started a slow grind against his hips.

"Ugh, shit, Elise," he said as his head fell forward against my forehead. I smirked at his labored breaths. I loved the control that I had over him, the way that he was putty in my hands. I pushed his hair back, rumpling it. My breath hitched as he moved me over his erection, making small noises as I tried to press closer and closer to him with each sloppy thrust.

The heat between us was searing, white-hot waves of sexual tension building in the space between our bodies. This was nuts. Last week, he told me he just wanted to focus on school. Yesterday, I still hated him for that. What was I doing dry-humping him with my shirt off?

I didn't have a chance to ponder this further because he pushed me onto my back roughly. He was frenzied, overheated, muttering expletives as his hips worked against mine and he fought for control.

"Ah fuck," he muttered, "sorry it's just that you got me so ah, worked up, last night already and…."

I giggled, "I don't remember, was I any good?"

"The best," he muttered as he kissed his way down my neck, "always the best."

He tangled his fingers in my still-damp hair, his bare skin molding to mine as he kissed me, using his palms to lift my ass closer to him, to increase the sizzling hot friction building between us. When I couldn't bear it anymore I yanked at the fly of his jeans, sliding them off with his briefs as he tried to pull off my pants without removing my mouth from his.

God, this was so frantic, so hurried, both of us desperate for more skin, more touch, more heat. We were so inexplicably drawn to each other, so magnetic; the week we'd spent apart had tipped us into feverish disarray when we were reunited, trying to make up for lost time.

My hands cupped his cheek, holding him still as we caught our breath, panting.

He fumbled in the drawer beneath his bed, uncharacteristically flustered, his underwear tangled at his ankles. I giggled, kicking them off with my feet while he rolled on a condom.

When he crawled up the bed again I pushed him up against the pillows on his back, straddling him. Elliot ghosted his hands over the curves of my naked body, his shit-eating grin telling me he liked what he saw.

We stared at each other for a long second, his eyes glassy with lust, the green of his eyes darkening. When I lowered myself onto him he groaned loudly, fingertips digging into my skin, hips lifting me as my back arched. His jaw was clenched, his eyes shut in pleasure so good it was almost pain, holding me still for a moment.

"F-fuck." I whined, impatient. I wriggled a little and he growled. Suddenly I was being bounced in his lap, his fingers spread across my hips, moving me up and down.

He watched me though lidded eyelids, one of my hands braced on his shoulder as I worked myself over him, trying to find that spot, that angle, whimpering as he held the small of my back and lifting me with his hips as I became more and more desperate with the heat he was funneling into me.

"Elliot…"I groaned, grabbing handfuls of his hair, tethering myself to him as I careened out of control, my wild frantic thrusts making him groan and grit his teeth. He growled as I said his name, begging me to say it again.

"Shit, shit…" He hissed when I complied, my tits bouncing in his face as I dug my fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. He moved his hand between us to rub at my clit and I lost it, sobbing with relief as I arched and bowed in his lap, the sensation of him inside of me suddenly too much as I sagged against his chest. His hips were still bouncing me up and down, his rhythm shot as he moved involuntarily, the visual of me coming to pieces in his arms too much; he couldn't help himself.

He tensed and shuddered underneath me, a stilted groan making his mouth hang open as he fell back against the pillows.

I don't know how long we lay like this, entangled, panting, catching our breath. He pulled out of me and threw out the condom.

"Wow." Elliot mumbled when he returned to bed, twisting my hair off my back and pulling me close to him.

I smirked, cupping the back of his head as he buried it in my neck, his breath tickling my skin. "Yeah."

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he said.

"I have some idea. Hey Elliot?"


"Can we stay here all day?"

"I wish." He kissed my temple. "You know I have to get back to work."

"Oh okay." I pouted, clinging to his side. "I'm probably distracting you by being here, aren't I?"

"I can't say I mind."

"Mmm," I whispered into his chest. We stayed like that for a long while, limbs entangled, drinking each other in.

Elliot sighed as I moved to get dressed.

"I've been here all day," I explained, "I'm not taking responsibility for the perfect Elliot Pryce's grades slipping."

"Okay, but at least let me walk you back," he said.

We walked across campus to my dorm, bundled up in his clothes, his arm casually draped over my shoulder.

He left me at the door of my building with a long kiss.

"Patch things up with Hannah, okay?" Elliot pushed a piece of hair behind my ear.

I just shrugged.

Hannah was at her desk when I came in. She raised an eyebrow at my outfit and my disheveled hair.

"Where were you last night?" She asked.

"I went out with my sister."

"And ended up in boy's sweatpants?"

"These are Elliot's."

"What?!" She seemed to forget that she was mad at me for a second. "Spill."

"Only if you promise you'll stop being mad at me."

"Depends how juicy this shit is."