Page 27 of The Love We Make

Or to let her get drunk.

Or to get drunk with her.

Or to drink too much.

But fuck, that is exactly what happened.

And while she tends to ramble and say whatever she wants when she drinks, I tend to overanalyze and overthink. So my mind was far from being cleared.

I looked over at her sleeping soundly beside me. The light from the morning sun coming in from the curtains was all the light I had, but I could see her enough to know she was passed out hard.

Last night was wild.

When I came out of the bathroom, she was sound asleep, naked. Luckily for her modesty, she was wrapped in a sheet. I threw a t-shirt over her head without looking and prayed she had panties on.

I slid into bed beside her and passed out thanks to the copious amount of vodka I had as well.

But I woke up with some clarity.

With resolve that I didn’t have before.

“Wake up,” I pushed Madison on the shoulder, urging her to wake up. I had to pitch later so we had to talk about this now.

“Leave me alone,” she moaned and flipped to her other side.

“Hey drunk girl, wake up,” I said again. I sat up and leaned my back against the headboard. “I have to leave in an hour so let's talk this out.”

She shot up in the bed, covering herself with the blanket before realizing she was dressed in a shirt. Her hair was wild and her eyes were barely open. She was thrashing around getting her bearings as I watched on in amusement.

“Did we?” She asked.

“No,” I said quickly, wanting to get right to it. “I am not into necrophilia. Plus, had we done anything, you would definitely remember it.”

She rolled her eyes and flopped down onto the bed.

“Relieved?” I asked. “Glad you didn’t let drunk Madison get her way?”

“Drunk Madison was embarrassing, but she meant every word she said.”

This is what I needed to know. I needed to know if she was serious or having a moment of weakness.

“So Madison still wants me to take her virginity?”

She threw a pillow over her face and mumbled, “Yes.”

“Ok. I will.” I kept it simple and climbed out of bed.

“Wait, what?” She was sitting up watching me walk towards the bathroom.

I turned to her and repeated myself slowly, “O. K. I. Will.”

Her face twisted in disbelief. She knew there was a catch. She knew me too well to know I would just say ok and that was that.

“Right now?”

“After the All-star game. Come with me, we will have a blast—the best friend weekend we need. Then, if after the game you still want to, I will make sure your first time is storybook perfect.”

“What?” She didn’t seem to believe me.

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