I bite down hard on my bottom lip and continue to the bedroom door at the end of the corridor. Stopping momentarily, I stare at the wood, my mind a complete blank as I down yet another mouthful of tequila before that idle hand of mine does the Devil’s work and reaches up, tentatively knocking against the pine.

I wait.

Nothing.

Chewing nervously on the inside of my cheek, I look down at the bottle in my hand before staring at the door once more. I knock again, this time slightly harder. But then as I continue to wait with no sound of life coming from the other side of the wall, the seconds begin to feel more like never-ending infinities as they tick by at a snail’s pace. I swallow my nerves and reach out for the knob, turning it slowly before pushing the door open as quietly as I can.

As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I zero in on his form curled up lifelessly in the armchair, his legs stretched out with his feet resting upon his duffel bag, and my shoulders sag in resignation. He’s asleep. In the armchair. I spent too long deliberating with my snarky subconscious and now he’s passed out, and I’m standing here like a complete and utter fool. Thankfully, I’m the only one who will ever know about this particular humiliation.

I tiptoe inside, stepping over my randomly strewn clothes on the floor as steadily as I can in my state, continuing through to the bathroom. Closing the door behind me, I release a trembling breath, looking down to the bottle of tequila still in my hand. With a shrug, I console myself with one final swig before placing it onto the counter by the sink.

Talk about an anticlimax. But I know it’s for the best. I mean, God knows what would happen if he’d been awake. Kissing is one thing, but would I actually have sex with him? What if I did, then what? I’m sure I would only wake up tomorrow morning with a serious case of regret and self-loathing. Maybe it would change everything. Surely, we couldn’t remain friends after something as intimate as that. It’s been bad enough looking him in the eye today after drunkenly kissing him last night, I can only imagine how awkward things would be after having drunk, mindless sex with him. There’s no way we could be friends after that.

With another sigh, I move to the vanity, removing the elastic from my nest of hair and allowing the wayward curls to fall down around my shoulders. I untie my shirt, unfastening the buttons before pushing my skirt down over my hips, the material pooling at my feet before I kick it off into the corner. I top my toothbrush with some of Harley’s toothpaste because I forgot mine, and I stare at myself in the mirror’s reflection as I brush my teeth, thinking of all the things that could’ve happened tonight, realizing just how lucky I am that they didn’t. I really dodged a bullet.