“Life was a series of ironic ambushes.” – Stephen King
Jane woke before Christian and found she was laying comfortably on his chest. It might have been romantic, she thought, but 1) it was just Christian, and 2) her drool on his shirt was anything but attractive.
She woke him up after wiping her mouth and was glad her purse was at her feet. She had no recollection of collecting her things, but she left it as another unanswerable mystery of the universe.
Christian woke slowly with a loud groan and held his head. “What did I drink last night?” he felt his shirt. “And why is my shirt wet?”
Jane replied, “Whatever you drank, you drank a whole lot of it. I threw most of mine up.” She failed to give any theories on his wet shirt, hoping he had his own universal mysteries mental file.
“I rem
