The bass of the club’s music pulsed through your body, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat. You weren’t even sure how many drinks you had, but Jake had kept up with you the entire night. He always did.

“Another round?” he asked, his voice slightly slurred, his dark eyes gleaming under the neon lights.

You laughed, barely able to stand straight. “You’re gonna regret this tomorrow.”

He smirked, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “So will you.”

The night blurred after that—shots, stumbling out of the club, Jake’s laughter mixing with yours as you tripped over the sidewalk. He had his arm around your waist, steadying you, though he wasn’t much better off. You remembered teasing him about his terrible balance, his grip tightening playfully as he mumbled something about finding a place to crash.

Then—darkness.

——

“God… my head,” you groaned, your voice hoarse as you blinked against the dim motel lighting. The sheets felt unfamiliar, rough against your skin. Your stomach churned.

Where the hell were you?

You sat up slowly, the room spinning for a moment. Clothes were scattered across the floor—your jacket, Jake’s leather one, a couple of shirts…

Wait.

You turned your head, your breath catching in your throat. Jake was next to you.

His dark hair was a mess, his face relaxed as he slept, lips slightly parted. His bare chest rose and fell steadily, the sheets barely covering his torso. He looked peaceful—completely unaware of the absolute chaos unraveling in your mind.

Oh. Shit.

Your pulse pounded as pieces of last night flashed back—his hands gripping your waist, his laugh against your neck, the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the room.

Jake shifted, groaning as he ran a hand through his hair. His eyes cracked open, still heavy with sleep and hangover, but the moment they met yours, he froze.

For a second, neither of you spoke. Then, he let out a low chuckle, his voice rough. “Well… that happened.”