The morning after...and somebody's cooking bacon.
Tony’s bed? Suddenly panicking, I looked to my right. The bed was empty next to me. This calmed me down a little, but it still didn’t prove anything. I looked down at myself. I was fully clothed. All buttons and zippers fastened. I sighed with relief. I was worried there for a moment. Me, sleep with Tony? Ugh.
Suddenly, the smell of bacon wafted up to my nostrils. Normally, I love bacon. But on the rare (or very common) occasions in which I had an enormous hangover, I wasn’t so into it. I ran to the bathroom for some good old-fashioned regurgitation. Once that was dealt with, I brushed my teeth and headed downstairs.
“Who the hell is making bacon on hangover Saturday?” I asked.
“Hangover Saturday? When was that established?” Nick asked, standing next to the stove with his apron on and a frying pan in his hand.
“Today, since it’s Saturday and I have a hangover,” I said, grimacing at the bacon frying away in the pan. “What even happened last night?” I asked. Nick thought for a moment.
“Well, Jeremiah and I went to do an interview for Spin Magazine…and that was sorta fun…not…and it looks like you did some partying,” he said.
“You weren’t even there?” I asked.
“At the party? No,” he said.
“Jeez,” I said. “I must have been just shit-faced last night.” I remembered a guy. He’d danced with me a few times. He’d had black hair with a patch of pink in it, a few random tattoos, a lip ring, and a HOT face and body. Mmmhmm. I think he was Tony’s friend. I didn’t remember anything else.
“As you often are,” he replied.
“Oh, as if you’re not just as much as I am,” I said. He gave me a look that clearly said, “Reality check.” I went to the cupboard and pulled out some Advil and filled myself a glass of water. Then another question was out of my mouth before I could stop it. “I didn’t sleep with Tony last night, did I?”
Nick abruptly stopped forking the bacon and stared at me, shocked.
“What?!” he said.
“I woke up in Tony’s bed,” I said. “I freaked for a second. I just wanna make sure I didn’t sleep with him.”
“Did you have any clothes on?” Nick asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Was he in the bed with you when you woke up?” he asked.
“Ew,” said Nick. “That’s just the grossest thought.”
“Why is it gross?” I asked.
“Because…you and Tony,” he said. “You guys have known each other since you were sixteen.”
“Which was only four years ago,” I said.
“Still…weird,” he said. “Just…weird.”
“Was another guy here last night?” I asked. “A guy with black and pink hair?”
“Benji?” Nick asked. Bingo.
“Yes!” I said WAY too excitedly. I immediately frowned. “I mean, yeah, I think that’s the one,” I covered. Nick smiled knowingly.
“Ooo, Roxy’s got the hots for Benji,” he said.
“Did I do anything with HIM last night?” I asked.
“Not here,” said Nick. “And Matt said he and Tony were with you the whole night, so probably not.”
Damn. No action for Roxy. And I’d probably acted like a complete idiot in front of Benji. He probably never wanted to speak to me or see me again. Damn it. I hate it when I do that! Oh well. There were more where he’d come from. Plus I even already had a boyfriend, so I probably shouldn’t have even been worrying about it.
“Who the fuck’s making bacon on a Saturday morning?” asked a voice of Tony’s. I gave Nick a knowing glance.
“Toldja,” I said. “Hide!” Tony always had a case of the Crabapple McNasties when he was hungover. Nick dropped his fork and scampered under the table. Tony emerged and then looked around, surprised. He stared at the stove with no one at it, bacon frying without supervision. He looked at my in question. I shrugged.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It was like that when I got down here. Except Nick was standing in front of it…DAMMIT!” I said when I realized what I’d revealed. Nick slowly crept out from under the table.
“Thanks, Roxy,” he growled.
“My bad,” I said. Tony looked at Nick angrily, but I distracted him before he could attack. “He Anthony, we didn’t sleep together last night, did we?” He stopped looking angry and looked at me like my head had just transformed into a rabid wolf head about to attack.
“What?!” he said finally, after a pretty weird silence.
“I woke up in your bed,” I explained. He stared at me for a while longer, then scrunched his face up.
“Roxy, that’s just gross,” he said. I raised my hands in question.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” I asked. “Is the very thought of having sex with me just repulsive?” Everyone just looked at each other. “Oh my God.”
“No, it’s quite the contrary, actually,” Nick said in an awkward British accent. “It’s just…you and Tony? Not so much.”
“Well, I think they’d be simply smashing togetha!” Matt said in the same accent.
“Bloody fabulous!” Jeremiah put in.
The door opened.
“Thank you!” Tony and I exclaimed, thankful, obviously, for the interruption. Benji looked confused in the doorway.
“You’re welcome?” he asked.
“Well, you sure saved us,” said Tony. “You should’ve seen—they were talking—Roxy and I—they were talking about what it would be like if—you know, in the bed, with us—“ he abruptly stopped all choppy rambles upon seeing my glare. “It was just…it was…awkward. In here,” he finished. Then he turned and walked out of the room. I looked back over at Benji, whose eyes were fixed on me. Or rather, at my bare midriff. Probably at my naval ring which happened to say “Sex Empress” on it. Then his eyes slowly traveled up, lingering on certain body parts before meeting my eyes and gazing into them.
I held my breath and waited for him to speak.