The Morning After

"Morning." I was trying to get my bearings and wondered whose voice could be so full of smiles this early in the morning.

"Um, hi?" My mouth was dry, and my head felt like it had a toddler inside, screaming and hammering my skull.

"I left a glass of water and two paracetamols next to the bed."

"Where am I?"

"Shit! Sorry! I'm Dale, Rory's mate. I was worried about you, so I brought you here last night."

I knew Rory- he was going out with Melissa, my colleague. I vaguely remembered being dragged from the office to go to Friday night drinks with colleagues, but I could not remember that much since then. I sat up in bed and noticed I was wearing my t-shirt from the day before, but my jeans had been removed. It was, perhaps, a relief to discover that I still had my bra and undies on under the shirt, despite how uncomfortable they made me.

"I, um, I don't remember much. I presume I made a fool of myself and came onto you?"

"Not exactly," that smile was back in his voice, but as I looked up at him sitting on the bed his demeanour changed, "Someone slipped something into your drink because you hadn't drunk too much at all. I was just there when you turned and, well, you fell into my arms. Melissa wasn't sure of your address and she and Rory had another party to get to, so I said I'd bring you back here."

"Um, thanks."

"It's Lainey, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." my voice trailed off, "Um, sorry, but um, I remember Mel dragging me along after work, telling me I needed to meet Rory's mate who had just come back from working in Africa or something. Is that you?"

"Yeah. I spent the last 18 months working in a refugee camp in Kenya. Rory told me I was going to meet Melissa but didn't mention you. I have a, well, let's just say I don't relate well to women. Your jeans are hanging over the chair."

"Do you have coffee?"

"I do, but I think we only have soy milk in the fridge, and I don't know where the sugar is if there is any."

"I prefer black and bitter, like my soul."

"A woman after my own heart!"

"I'm not after your heart."

"No, shit, sorry, it's a saying."

"I know. You said you don't do well with women; well, I don't do well with men."

Dale left the room to make coffee. I swallowed the tablets and drank the water. I felt a little woozy standing but managed to don my jeans and tie up my shoelaces.

Making my way out into the hallway, I realised that this was Rory's house and I had been here once before.

"There you are." That smile was back in his voice as he handed me a cup filled with an aromatic coffee. It wouldn't have mattered what coffee it was, but it was perfect.

"Um, the bathroom?"

"Just down here. Do you want a shower?"

"No, just the loo. Um..." I awkwardly handed the coffee to Dale as I entered the toilet and relieved myself. Washing my hands, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my mascara from the day before smudged under my eyes and my hair all over the place.

"Lainey, hey, I put your coffee over here."

"Thanks. I should probably head home. I need a shower."

"I'd offer to drive you, but I don't have a car yet."

"All good, sorry, I'm still confused. Why did you choose to bring me here? I mean, it's fairly obvious nothing happened."

"You'd been drugged, or had drunk a bottle of tequila before you arrived, and --"

"Yeah, but if someone drugged me, then, whatever. Thanks for saving me."

"So, I'm your saviour now?"

"Don't know if I'd go that far, you got a God complex or something?"

"There'd have to be a God for that!"

"Fair enough. What is it about women you don't get?"

"Well, where do I start?"

"Breakfast? I find you intriguing and want to learn more about you. Plus, I suppose I need to thank-you for rescuing me."

"So, hold on, you're the shrink Rory meant when he told me I needed to see one?"

"You couldn't afford my fees, but breakfast sounds good."

"You're a bit cute, you know."

"Shut up and cook." It was my turn for my voice to smile.

750 words are the least allowable on Literotica for a story to be published. each year there is a challenge for authors to write a story contained in exactly 750 words. I know this will leave folks wanting more, but isn't that the point of a decent story- you want more?

Comments and votes, as always, are appreciated. Make sure you check out the other 750 word tales too :)