up to my chin, rolled over and attempted to get back to sleep. I don’t know how long I lay there. Minutes? Hours? Possibly days. But eventually, it became apparent that sleep would not be returning and I may as well get up and face my day.
Throwing back the covers, I slid out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom, not bothering to check my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t need confirmation. I would bet money I looked as bad as I felt. Hungover didn’t begin to describe it. After the bathroom, I made my way to the kitchen. It wasn’t a long commute. My apartment was small, open-plan. The foot of my bed was literally my living room, sans walls.
With a yawn, I shoved a pod into my Keurig and hit the magical button. While I waited, I pulled out a drawer and dug around inside, my fingers closing around a box of painkillers. Popping two in my mouth, I turned on the faucet, ducking my head to drink directly from the flow. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I leaned back against the kitchen counter, surveying my apartment. Heels, blazer and purse on the floor by the front door. Check. Skirt and stained T-shirt in the middle of the floor, en route to the bed. Check. A random person asleep on my sofa. Check.
Wait. What?
Frowning, I tried to recall last night’s events. Ben had been a champ and joined me at the pub. He’d invited the detective to join us, but he’d declined, much to my chagrin, saying he’d catch up with Ben later. Ben had a drink, maybe two, and I remember playing darts and pool with him. Then Joey had arrived and Ben had left. A couple of others from the office had turned up. There were tequila shots, and then it all gets a bit fuzzy.
So who on earth had I brought home with me? And did we…but no. I was in my PJs and he was on the sofa. Nothing had happened in that department, I was sure of it. But then, who was currently snoring on my sofa?
Creeping forward, I peeked over the back. At that exact moment, he sat up and we almost collided. I leaped back in fright, squealing as I did, promptly losing my balance and landing on my rear.
“Audrey?” Ben propped his arms on the back of the sofa and peered down at me. “You okay?”
“Ben?” I blinked at him. He blinked back.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, scrambling to my feet. The aroma of coffee filled the air so I returned to the kitchen, opened an overhead cupboard, and took down a second cup. “Coffee?” I asked.
“Please.” I heard movement, looked out of the corner of my eye to see him sit up, elbows resting on his jean-clad knees as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“So,” I said, preparing his coffee, “what a night.” I had no recollection of Ben even returning to the pub, let alone coming home with me.
“Yeah.” His voice was muffled and I jerked my head up. He was rubbing his face, vigorously, with both hands.
“You okay?” Crossing to him, I set his coffee on the table in front of the sofa. “Hungover?”
He cocked his head, looking at me. “I guess? I feel…strange.”
“Strange how?” Cupping my hands around my coffee, I took a tentative sip and burned my tongue. Pursing my lips, I softly blew on the black brew.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel weird. How did I get here?”
My eyebrows shot into my hairline. “You don’t remember?” We were both screwed if that was the case. He was shaking his head. I plopped down beside him.
“I don’t either,” I admitted. “I don’t remember you coming back to the Crown & Anchor. I vaguely remember leaving. Pretty sure I got a cab. Damn—that means I’ve gotta go back and get my car.”
He chuckled. “I’ll give you a lift. Later. When you’re sober.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “When you stop reeking like a brewery.”
“Ha ha. So what do you remember?” I tried my drink again, closing my eyes as the blissful kick of caffeine hit my stomach.
Ben was silent for so long that I cracked an eye open to check on him. He was staring at the wall, a blank expression on his face. I frowned. Had he had a stroke? I was just reaching out to poke his shoulder when he swung