She'd woken up a few moments before and was now sitting with her back against the headboard, the sheet drawn up under her chin. Her head was pounding, her eyes closed and her fingertips massaging her temples, while she waited for her stomach to settle down enough that she could tiptoe out of bed.
Christ, how drunk could she has possible been that this seemed like a good idea?
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Christ, how drunk could she has possible been that this seemed like a good idea?