Alexander’s POV
I wasn’t proud of myself and what I had done last night.
I woke up this morning with a pounding headache all thanks to the limitless round of shots we had at the bar, it’s been a while since I’ve last drank until I knocked out. And then I remembered why I had drank so much last night—I was mad, well, and mad at myself.
I woke up, shirtless in an unfamiliar surroundings and realized I wasn’t sleeping in my own bed.
“Great you’re up, thanks for throwing up on my girlfriend’s expensive Persian rug and on my guest room floor.” Marcus said, tossing me a clean wet towel and I took it, rubbing it all over my face, relishing in the coolness on my warm skin.
“Oh god…” I groaned, clutching my throbbing skull, groaning because of the pain and not the ruined rug. “There’s Advil on
