Lila’s P.O.V.
I woke up with a pounding headache and the unmistakable sense that I had made a terrible mistake by getting so drunk last night. The sunlight streaming through the curtains felt like needles piercing my eyes, and every sound, even the rustling of the sheets as I shifted, seemed amplified by a hundred. I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head in a feeble attempt to block out the world.
What on earth had I done last night?
Bits and pieces of the evening came back to me in flashes. There had been laughter, way too much wine… and Skye who had come to pick me up. My heart skipped a beat as I remembered being angry with him, confronting him about something—his art, maybe? And then… and then…
“Oh God,” I whispered, my voice muffled by the blanket.
I vaguely recalled kissing
