I rolled over, startling myself awake as I scented him… Parker, all vanilla and cinnamon. I sprang up. I was in a bed the size of Nebraska. Make that his bed. How the heck did I get in Parker’s bed… clothed? It came rushing back to me. Pregaming Parker’s had not been my best idea, but my father had been on my case all morning, snagging me before I was fully awake and able to escape the house as I usually did on the weekends, and I’d needed something to calm down before heading over to Parker’s.

I hadn’t even had but a couple of drinks, but exhaustion and stressed mixed with my low tolerance had me turning into a sleepy mess. I knew better and now I was going to pay for it. At least I was good and sober now even if it came with a side of being a hot mess.

Standing up, I attempted to brush the wrinkles from my clothing. It was a fool’s errand. I could only imagine how badly the back was wrinkled. It was going to be so fun when my parents decided to comment on that. Maybe Parker had an iron I could borrow.

I padded out the door and down the hallway until I hit a dead end and then turned around to go the other way. How was it possible to have an apartment one could get lost in? I mean, I knew Parker did well, but this was a level of well-off I couldn’t fully comprehend. I found him where I last saw him, the kitchen, leaning against the counter, his brow furrowed.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I made my way over to him. Leave it to me to get drunk and fall asleep. At least I wasn’t a mean drunk. Sleep generally was my thing. Sleep and over-sharing, which I also did. Unfortunately, the sleep didn’t take away all of my pre-game lubrication. It did add some dog breath though, so I was losing all the way around.

“For what?” Parker straightened up, stepped as if he were going to come closer, then stopped in his tracks.

“Falling asleep and making you carry me out.” He smiled at that, not that I should be reading so much into a stupid smile. “What?” I asked, not wanting to know as much as wanting him to stop. Being here, in his space, was overwhelming, especially the scent. How had it gotten yummier over time?

“Your hair.” He pointed to my left side, my hand immediately tracing the side of my head. Crap on a cracker, it was sticking straight out. My parents weren’t going to be impressed. At least Parker looked amazing.

“Kill me now,” I groaned. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the wrinkles, too.”

He bit his lip, clearly bemused. At least he found humor in it, because my parents sure as shit wouldn’t.

“I need to pull myself together before dinner.” He didn’t even pretend to argue that I looked fine. I imagined it was far worse than my original assessment. “Bathroom?”

“Second door on the left.”

“Iron?” I crossed my fingers he had one.

“That I can’t help you with. I send them out.” Of course he did. I was so screwed.

“Yeah, me too.” At least, I had, before moving home. Now my mother did them because she got some strange sense of accomplishment doing laundry and cooking. She was the epitome of a house omega, down to the homemade bread. “My parents are going to be less than impressed when I show up like this.”

“And a half hour late.”

“What?” I exclaimed. I hadn’t even thought about that. I had no idea how long I’d slept. Could I mess things up any more than I already have?

“We’re supposed to be there in five minutes.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Want one of my shirts and ties?”

What could go wrong being wrapped in his scent?

“My pants would look like clown pants on you, but I’m sure we could make one of my shirts work.”

I accepted his offer, because what the heck else could I do? At least my pants were dark and once we were seated no one would be able to tell how rumpled they were. “Thanks. Let me fix my hair a bit.”

I all but ran into the bathroom. A brief gander told me I needed more than a five minute fresh up, but that was all I had. I sent a quick text to my dad apologizing, letting him know we would be a bit late, and then turned off my phone and slipped it in my pocket. I didn’t want to deal with his response right now.

I did the best I could to flatten my hair, wetting it and using Parker’s comb. I also helped myself to his mouthwash, doing the best I could to make myself somewhat less gross. If my dad hadn’t controlled my whole day, if I hadn’t been thinking so constantly about Parker, my apprehension over being with him, in his space, after all these years—maybe I wouldn’t have drank too much.

Parker was waiting outside the bathroom when I finally emerged, holding out a shirt remarkably close to the color I was wearing. I slid my shirt off and his on. It was too big, his muscles far more defined than mine, but tucked in, it was passible, and since it almost matched mine there was a slight possibility my parents wouldn’t even notice.

“You look good in my clothes.”

I blushed at his appraisal as I finished adjusting the tie that had hung on the hanger with the shirt.

“Don’t,” I pleaded. “Today is hard enough.”

“Is that why you drank? Because you’re a shitty liar, whether or not you’ve been drinking.” Shit. What I had told him wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth.

“Sorry. I just… all the feels after all the years and they are jumbled and confused and on top of it that, the first time I see you is as my world is falling apart, and now I’m not even… never mind. Can we just go?”

I was babbling like a fool and oversharing thanks to my hungover, dumbass decision making, but Parker just nodded and held his arm out for me. I took it because I’m a masochist. As we made our way to his car, forgoing the taxi idea, this felt far more like the real deal than simply a way to get my parents off my back for a little while.