Recap...

The harsh sunlight streaming through the window was merciless, stabbing into your eyes as you groaned and buried your face into the couch cushion. Your head was pounding, your mouth felt dry as sandpaper, and your stomach churned ominously.

You slowly blinked, trying to piece together where you were and how you’d ended up there. The familiar living room came into focus, and you realized with a pang of irritation that you were still wearing your outfit from last night.

A faint taste lingered on your tongue, one you couldn’t quite place but which made your stomach turn further. Flashes of the previous night flickered through your mind like a disjointed slideshow: the drinks, the frustration, Liam’s voice... and then...

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered, your voice hoarse and barely audible.

The realization hit like a freight train. You’d gone too far.

Sitting up too quickly, you winced as a sharp throb radiated through your skull. You pressed a hand to your temple, trying to stave off the hangover while your other hand clutched the edge of the couch for stability.

“You’re awake,” Liam’s voice called out, startling you. He was in the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter with a mug of coffee in his hands. His expression was unreadable, though there was a slight tension in his jaw that gave away his unease.

“Barely,” you croaked, your voice thick with the remnants of sleep and ****.

Liam walked over, placing a glass of water and two aspirin on the coffee table in front of you. “Here. You look like you need this.”

You took the water without a word, downing it in one go before popping the pills. Silence stretched between you as Liam perched on the armrest of the couch, watching you carefully.

“So,” he started, his tone cautious. “You remember much about last night?”

Your stomach twisted—not just from the hangover, but from the mortifying fragments of memory that had begun to surface. “Bits and pieces,” you admitted reluctantly, avoiding his gaze.

Liam’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You were... pretty drunk,” he said carefully.

“No shit,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. “I remember that much.”

He hesitated, clearly choosing his next words with care. “We, uh... kind of went beyond our usual arrangement.”

The blood drained from your face, and you shot him a sharp look. “I know,” you said, your voice tight.

“You do?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise.

You nodded slowly, the memories flooding back in more detail than you wanted. The heat, the taste, the way you’d acted on impulse without thinking about the consequences. “I was drunk and... I wasn’t thinking straight,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Liam looked at you for a moment before speaking again, his tone softer this time. “You seemed... different last night. Like you weren’t just drunk, but—” He paused, searching for the right words. “You were... frustrated, maybe? Or just... done with everything?”

You let out a humorless laugh, the sound dry and bitter. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“I didn’t mean for things to go that far,” Liam said, his voice tinged with guilt. “But you didn’t exactly stop me either.”

You shot him a glare, the mix of shame and frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think I don’t know that?” you snapped. “I was drunk and stupid, and... I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

Liam held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I’m not blaming you. I just... I think we should talk about it. Figure out where we stand after... that.”

You sighed, leaning back against the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admitted.

“Then let’s keep it simple,” Liam said. “Are you okay? Like, with what happened?”

You hesitated, your emotions a tangled mess of embarrassment, regret, and something else you couldn’t quite identify. “I don’t know,” you said honestly. “I guess I’m just... trying to process it.”

Liam, on the other hand, seemed entirely too relaxed for your liking. He sat on the armchair across from you, one leg draped casually over the other, sipping his coffee with an infuriatingly amused glint in his eye.

“So,” he restarted, breaking the silence, “about last night...”

You groaned, already regretting everything. “Can we not?” you muttered, focusing intently on the rim of your glass.

“Sorry, but no,” Liam said with a grin that bordered on smug. “I think we should talk about it. Clear the air, you know?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you shot back, your tone sharp. “I was drunk. Stupid drunk. End of story.”

Liam tilted his head, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Mmm, I don’t know if it’s _that _simple,” he teased. “I mean, you weren’t exactly fighting me off or anything.”

Your cheeks burned, and you gritted your teeth, refusing to rise to the bait. “I was drunk,” you repeated, your voice strained.

“Yeah, you said that already,” Liam replied, his grin widening. “But drunk or not, you did a pretty good job for someone so ‘****.’”

Your head snapped up, and you glared at him. “Don’t,” you warned. “Just... don’t.”

Liam chuckled, completely unfazed by your glare. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. Mostly.”

You exhaled sharply, leaning back against the couch and running a hand through your hair. “It was a one-time thing, okay? It’s never happening again.”

“Never?” Liam asked, raising an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Absolutely,” you said firmly, your tone leaving no room for argument. “Last night was... it was a mistake. A dumb, drunken mistake.”

Liam hummed thoughtfully, taking another sip of his coffee. “If you say so,” he said lightly. Then, with a sly smile, he added, “But you have to admit, you looked pretty natural doing it.”

Your stomach churned with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “Shut up,” you snapped.

“I’m just saying,” Liam continued, undeterred. “You’ve been leaning into this whole ‘feminine’ thing a lot lately. Maybe it’s not such a bad fit for you.”

You shot him a withering glare, your fists clenching at your sides. “I don’t know what delusional fantasy you’ve got in your head, but I’m not ‘leaning into’ anything. Last night was a fluke. That’s it.”

“Right, right,” Liam said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “No need to get so defensive.”

“I’m not defensive!” you snapped, though the heat in your face betrayed you.

Liam smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Sure you’re not,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You let out a frustrated groan, setting your glass down on the coffee table with more **** than necessary. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And yet, you still put up with me,” Liam quipped, his grin never faltering.

“I have no idea why,” you muttered, crossing your arms and glaring at the floor.

Liam leaned forward slightly, his expression softening. “Hey, for what it’s worth, I’m not judging you,” he said. “I mean it. Last night was... unexpected, sure, but it doesn’t change anything. We’re still friends. Still on the same team.”

You glanced up at him, your anger fading slightly. “Yeah, well, just don’t get any ideas,” you muttered. “Last night was a one-off. It’s not happening again.”

“Got it,” Liam said with a nod, though the playful glint in his eye suggested otherwise. “No more ‘arrangements’ like that. Totally understood.”

You didn’t trust the way he said it, but you were too exhausted to argue further. For now, you’d take his word for it and hope he didn’t push his luck again.