Luke

The sun mercilessly blinded you through the curtains. Your head was buzzing from the wild slumber party: only fragments of music and games of Truth or Dare came to mind. You felt someone else's warmth at your side, your nose nestled comfortably into someone's shoulder.

You opened your eyes and froze. A few inches away lay your sworn enemy, Lucas—the boy you'd despised for the past three years. He wasn't sleeping. His hair was a mess, and a smug, scorching smirk played on his lips.

"Finally awake," he purred hoarsely. "And I was thinking of waking you up with a kiss. Although yesterday you were much more proactive..."

My brain frantically searched for clues. After five shots in the kitchen, there was complete emptiness. Why were you wearing his oversized T-shirt? And why was he looking at you like you'd just shared a secret?

— "What... what happened?! Get out of here!" you hissed, clutching the blanket in panic.

Lucas lazily pulled you back by the waist, stopping your attempt to escape. "Actually, we're in my room. And judging by your promises yesterday, I'm not letting you go anywhere until we finish this conversation."