When Tom woke up, it was about an hour later. Damn, he hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

He glanced over at Ross, who was still asleep on his side next to him. They’d both just about passed out where they’d fallen, it seemed.

Tom stretched, feeling the pleasant ache in his body. He’d thought he’d had a sex marathon before. Clearly, he hadn’t really known the meaning of the term.

Now came the awkward part.

If he were in a relationship with Ross, he’d probably just curl up into Ross’s side and go back to sleep. Ross had mentioned something about having a shift soon, but Tom assumed he’d set an alarm. Tom would just muzzily wish him a good shift when Ross got up, and then keep on sleeping until it was time to get up.

But he wasn’t in a relationship. And he had no idea how this whole one night stand thing worked.

Was he allowed to stay the night? Would Ross object? Would he see it as presumptuous?

Tom just stared for a moment, feeling like an idiot, as Ross dozed on. Well, if nothing else, he did need a shower. Hopefully Ross wouldn’t mind—Tom wasn’t about to disturb what little sleep he got by waking him up to check.

He hopped in, rinsing off quickly and then drying himself with an extra towel he found in the cupboard. He could have a proper shower later; he just needed to not get dried spunk all over his clothes on his way home.

Thank God for Uber. He didn’t think taxis ran this late.

Tom dressed quietly. He’d much rather find out later on that he could’ve stayed, instead of staying and finding out that Ross wanted him to leave. He wasn’t sure his ego would be able to stand Ross kicking him out when he got up for his shift. That would just be awkward all around.

And it wasn’t like Ross was going to come back and make him breakfast or anything. Or like he was going to presume he could stay in the empty apartment and help himself to whatever before leaving. No, he’d just take an Uber, get home, crash for a couple hours, then take a proper shower. Maybe he’d treat himself to breakfast out at the local diner or something, get some waffles.

He couldn’t stop himself from taking a last look at Ross, still lying passed out on the bed. Tom felt a bit selfish—Ross had done most of the work, so to speak, during their tryst. But he’d seemed to enjoy being in control and driving Tom crazy, so he hoped that it had been as good for Ross as for him.

Because holy hell, had it been good for him.

He was a little tempted to say goodbye, but he didn’t know what he’d say. It wasn’t like he could kiss Ross or anything. That would just make it awkward, wouldn’t it?

Clearly, he wasn’t cut out for this whole casual hookup thing. He’d done it, he’d had a great time, but this after part was just too stressful.

He’d needed it, though, he thought as he quietly let himself out of the apartment. He’d, well, obviously had a lot of pent up energy, given how desperate he’d been and the fact that he’d actually managed to orgasm three times. It was almost like being a teenager again.

Tom climbed into the Uber when it arrived, checking his phone. The driver seemed tired too, and didn’t try to make any small talk, just played some soft jazz music.

He had a few texts from Adam, asking if he’d gotten home safe. Ah, crap.

The last one said, Should I assume that you didn’t make it home at all? Followed by a winking face.

He was never going to hear the end of this. Not only had he just hooked up with someone, that someone was one of Adam’s friends. Adam—and Enid when she found out, because Adam told her everything—were never going to let him hear the end of this.

Heading home now, he replied, because lying would be useless.

The light turned green and the car pulled forward…

There was a squeal of tires, a horn honking, and then suddenly something slammed into the side of the car. Tom jerked forward, caught by his seatbelt, as metal crumpled around his leg like a crushed soda can. Burning pain shot up his leg and his side and he had a moment to think oh shit before everything went black.