It took a moment for me to realize exactly what they smelled like. An expensive, exclusive cedar tree.

I sat up fast, my head hating me.

I was in Gabe’s house. In Gabe’s bed.

Looking around, I confirmed that I was alone and—except for my shoes—I was fully clothed. I slumped back against the very nice pillows.

Shit.

I didn’t know what was more embarrassing—that I’d passed out in Gabe’s bed or that I was in Gabe’s bed alone.

I could practically hear my roommate groaning.

“You were that close to fucking him and this is what happened?” she’d say to me.

I definitely needed new friends.

I tried to piece together the rest of the evening. I’d had a sip or two of whisky, followed up by a bucket of jelly beans. Then we’d been playing Running Pyramid, and I’d been very bad until I wasn’t, probably around the time my jelly bean sugar high hit, and at some point, we had been celebrating winning. Gabe’s dog had been jumping and barking and everyone had been laughing and after that I could remember lying down on the dog bed next to the puppy, who had been so tired and overwhelmed by the party that she’d put herself to bed, and I apparently had tried to do the same thing and now I could remember Gabe trying to get me off the dog bed, laughing as he did, while I kept trying to swat him away.

My stomach and heart both gave a lurch as the rest of my memory came back. Gabe had knelt down next to me—his face close to mine.

“Are you ready for bed?” he’d asked.

I must have nodded or snuggled in even closer to his puppy, who had let out a sigh of contentment, and I think I said that I would just stay there with her, but Gabe said that I couldn’t sleep on the dog bed and then he had put his arms around me and lifted me up against his chest. I wasn’t a small person—I was tall with lots of lanky limbs—and yet, he’d picked me up like I was the puppy herself and carried me into this room.

Into his room.

I vaguely remember some people clapping and hooting and hollering. Gabe had ignored them and put me on his bed. I’d crashed. Hard.

I’d flopped onto the mattress face-first, grabbing a pillow and holding it close. I could vaguely remember him taking my shoes off—I cringed at the thought of him coming into contact with feet that were probably very smelly—and then he’d left, closing the door behind him.