I don't think I feel alarmed by Clay's words. If anything, it makes me want him more. And Nick too. And anyone. I just want someone.

Nick hangs up on Clay. I smile at his wise decision and we attempt to take our shots.

"Ready?" He speaks, and I reach to grab my drink.

The glass was wet from the last time I spilled some of the vodka, so I'm not surprised that it slips from my hands and turns over on the table. Good thing alcohol evaporates and there's no need to clean it up.

"Shit, hold on," I grab the bottle that seems heavier than the last time even though there's way less liquid in it and pour myself another shot, "there we go."

Nick's eyelids are getting heavier but the smile is still there when we take the shots. At this point, we're both so used to the feeling that we can't even change our facial expressions on purpose.

Whatever.

I shift closer to him on the couch and he puts the shot glasses away to free our hands. I giggle when Nick puts his hand on my thigh and pulls me onto his lap.

Oh shit, he really was next.

The distance between us is minimal, which makes me nuzzle his neck cause it smells good, "Is this the new bodywash?"

"Yeah," Nick wastes no time wrapping his arms around my body.

"Your skin smells delicious," I feel intoxicated breathing on his neck.

"Take a bite then," his low raspy voice awakens something in me.

I'm so off-balance that I have to take my time cause I'm scared I'll bite the couch accidentally. And I should've valued the time I had, that was the worst decision I've ever made.

I hear the door swing shut and things happen in a matter of a second. I close my eyes thinking that I was getting abducted by the aliens when my body got lifted up from the couch. Then they took me to Clay's room and threw me on the bed. Only when I couldn't feel them touching me anymore, did I open my eyes.

Oh sorry, it wasn't the aliens, it was Clay. Or should I say Clayiens.

I start laughing hysterically at my own joke, softly rocking side to side on the bed as Clay throws his gym bag on the floor and leaves the room.

I hear him yelling at Nick in the living room but can't tell what he's saying. I hear a few lines like what the fuck did you do and why did you drink? He sounds so hot cursing that I prepare myself not to drool when he comes here and starts yelling at me. And if I drool, I hope it's only from my mouth.

Time passes, not sure how much of it, but it passes. So I get impatient waiting for Clay and decide to go find him myself. As I sit up and the whole room spins, I look up to make sure it's not an earthquake and the ceiling is not collapsing on me.

Shit, I think the earth hit a really bad turbulence.

I still attempt to stand up though, and-

Ouch.

"Ooowwww~" I whine from the floor. Something hurts, I'm not sure what it is.

By the time Clay runs to the room, I start laughing imagining myself falling from the bed. And from how confused he looks, my laugh transforms into a wheeze.

I found it funny how I didn't even know where it hurt, but turns out my body's smarter than me. I rub the back of my head involuntarily and that's the only way I find out what I hit.

"What the- are you okay?" Clay kneels infront of me.

I wish I was the one kneeling infront of him.

"I think I hit my head," I hope he understands what I'm saying cause I feel like my tongue is too heavy to move properly and I'm wheezing in between words.

Clay sighs, sneaking one arm under my knees and the other behind my back. Before I know, I'm in the air, "It was empty anyway." He speaks before laying my barely responsive body on the bed.

He's so funny, I'd slap my knee laughing if I could sit up.

As he's trying to put a pillow under my head, I'm staring at his muscular arms, his pretty face, his collarbones which are revealed by the cut of the black T-shirt and the chain dangling from his neck.

"You're so fucking hot, just take me already," I laugh and bite the side of my finger.

Clay's movements go still as his eyes land on mine and he pulls his brows together. He's even hotter like this.

"How hard did you hit your head?" He looks judgmental.

I didn't hear what he said, but I think it was about him being hard.

"What?" I smirk, my finger begging for mercy between my teeth.

"How many shots did you take?" He changes the question.

"Like, ten?"

The only thing giving me joy was chewing on the side of my index finger. He notices and pulls my hand away from my mouth.

"You're the biggest fucking idiot." Clay sits on the edge of the bed.

I hope he doesn't expect me to be offended by that, cause holy shit, he'd sound so hot degrading-

"Don't you wanna sleep? Nick's snoring already," he speaks again.

My eyelids feel like they have weight stones on them, but I don't think I can sleep. My body's tired but my mind is alert.

"I wanna sleep," I smile, "with you."

Clay inhales and throws his head back. I involuntarily look at the ceiling to see what he's looking at, but I can't find anything interesting. He looks so done, it's kinda funny. And when things are funny I giggle. And when I giggle, he facepalms to hide his smile.

"Can you not fall? I'll be back in five minutes," great, he's gonna leave me again.

He waits for my approval and leaves. I can't tell how long it takes him, but he brings hot coffee for me and puts it on the bedside table. Then he goes back to check on Nick, and I eagerly grab the mug to drink the coffee. It smells really good, but he made it too hot. Almost as hot as him.

Not expecting the shock of the temperature, I wrap both hands around the mug and bring it to my lips. I wasn't even able to take a sip, I felt my hands burning and quickly attempted to put the mug back in its place, not failing to pour some of the scorching hot coffee on my shirt.

It almost boils my tits off.

"Oooowwww~"

I scrunch up my nose and peel my shirt off my skin. It's still burning, even after getting rid of the contact.

"What-" Clay runs to the room again and stops immediately after seeing the brown stain on my white shirt, "oh my.."

He hurries close to me and sees the steam going up from the fabric. I glance at him with guilty eyes, he must think I did it on purpose cause he told me not to do stupid things.

"I didn't know it was hot!" I'm so whiney, only if I could cry, I would.

Clay is silent. He grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it, "Put your arms up," he orders, and I get too excited for a second. Then I remember that he's only doing this so I don't get third-degree burns on my boobs.

I can't believe I'm wearing a bra, I'm such an idiot. And I can't believe it didn't absorb any of the coffee and can stay on.

I like to think that he was staring at my cleavage and not the massive red mark the coffee left on my skin.

"What if it shrinks?" That's my biggest concern.

"What shrinks?" He looks so helplessly confused.

"My right titty.." I glare at the burn mark.

Clay runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. He even shuts his eyes close to breathe for a second before speaking, "What am I even supposed to do, Anastasia?"

I shrug, "It doesn't hurt," I lie, cause he sounds vulnerable, "I'm sorry, didn't know it was hot."

"Why'd you even get drunk?" Now he's blaming me.

The corners of my lips slightly curl down from his tone. I start chewing on my finger again.

"I didn't blame you when you were drunk," I frown, and he pushes my hand down from my mouth again.

"I wasn't falling off the bed and burning my tits when I was drunk, was I?" I don't know what I missed, but when I look up from my hands I see that he's digging in his freshly washed shirts. Eventually, he picks one.

"Well, I would cry if I could," I remember the sleepless night accompanied by his drunken sobs.

He doesn't answer, just hands me the shirt. I spend a lifetime trying to find my way into it, I keep twisting and turning the fabric and putting my arms in the wrong holes.

That's kinda funny.

He gives up after a while and helps me put it on. And he smiles again when I start giggling cause it tickles.