BLAIR'S POV
Someone is pounding a hammer against my skull.
That’s the only explanation for why my head feels like it’s about to split open as I pry my eyes open. A groan slips from my throat as I roll onto my side, then slowly push myself upright, the ache behind my eyes flaring viciously.
Ugh. This is exactly why I hate drinking. Every single time, I wake up feeling like I’m on the brink of dea…Wait a minute.
How did I even get to bed? I squint, trying to piece together last night, but nothing comes back immediately. I can’t remember walking up the stairs, unlocking my door, or collapsing on this bed.
Suddenly… images flash in my mind all at once and my eyes widen in disbelief. No way. I slap a hand over my mouth. Did I… call Blaise last night? Did I really?
A sharp knock on the doo
