Six Feet Under the Stars

My eyelashes fluttered open to the Portland sunrise.

Facing the balcony window, Dorian's arms wrapped around the front of me. The cookie-cutter hotel room had cherry wood furniture. Sleek metal lamps adorned the bureau tops. Hotels were strange; even as a guest it was like invading someone else's privacy for a while. Like, over-staying your welcome at an oddly neat cousin's house. A person's personal items temporarily cluttered the clean never full welcome.

Squinting in the sun rays, I felt like my head was being compressed. Growning, I wished for some Advil and a few more hours of sleep. It couldn't have been too late judging by the sun's position, but once I was up it was impossible for me to fall back asleep again. Spying a glass of water placed on the bedside table, I felt for it with my eyes half-closed. The headache grumbled like an angry beast.

Dorian shifted in the bed, changing positions in sleep. The comfort of his arms abandoned me. Sighing, I turned to face him. Maybe if I coaxed him out of bed slowly, he would want to go to a breakfast place I saw a few blocks over from the hotel. They had a hand-written sign out front advertising cinnamon French toast which sounded like a delicious way to cure a hangover. Turning, I choked on my water and scrambled for a breath.

It was Alex in bed beside me.

Jumping out of the covers like I had been electrocuted, I backed up towards a wall with a hand covering my mouth. My eyes were as wide as saucers. Wild thoughts pranced through my mind like unbroken Palomino horses. Pinching my arm, I tested to see if I was actually awake. Several scenarios played through my mind. Maybe there was some explanation about all of this. Something that didn't involve a drunken hook-up. Feeling sick to my stomach, I tried to keep myself sane.

My sudden movements roused Alex awake. He yawned and stretched like it was any normal morning. If I wasn't so preoccupied I woud have thought his tousled hair and morning face full of dreaminess was cute. But there was too much to worry about.

Slowly, he looked up at me. "I don't remember ordering a wake-up call, but I'll take it." He grinned and laced his fingers behind his head, leaning back on the pillow leisurely. "Why are you here so early in the morning? I wouldn't figure you as being an early riser."

"What the fuck happened?" I asked bluntly.

Confusion attached itself to his features. "Um, I woke up."

"I mean, last night. Why was I in bed with you? How the hell did we get back here?"

"Woah, slow down. You woke up in bed with me?" This was obviously news to him. The shock was visible outlining his expression.

"Yes." I answered patiently.

"That's bad." He said, finally catching on. "Well, not bad for me. Good actually."

I covered my face and my words were mumbled by my hand. "This isn't good at all. Do you remember anything that happened?"

"I remember drinking wine with you. Damn, you can really hold your alcohol." He complimented with a grin while wiggling into a more comfortable position. "No one's ever been able to match me like that before. It was exciting. We should team up and play some beer pong. We'd make a great team."

"This isn't the time for that."

Kicking his feet, Alex tried to unwind a bulge of blankets building up at the bottom of the bed. "Well, what do you remember?"

My mind was frazzled as I thought back. I could only withdraw spotty information with gaping holes of experiences missing. "Paying for some shots. Tripping on the sidewalk. My knee still hurts from that too. And climbing into a taxi while you held the door."

"Wow." Alex spoke, sounding enlightened. "Even when I'm drunk, I'm a gentleman. Really, I surprise myself sometimes."

Unamused, I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, way to focus in on the problem here."

"You know what else I remember?"

"Clue me in." I told him, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Because I sure as hell want to know what happened."

"Kissing you."

Blushing, I immediately denied the accusation. "I did not."

Alex shrugged. "Believe what you want. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Which is apparently me, by the way."

I groaned, and tried to ask a question casually. "Is that all that happened? You know, between us."

"My memory's a little sketchy on that area. Don't remember much except for your lips."

"Funny, I don't remember yours." I smirked. Alex scowled in response which made me laugh. "But there's a, uh, box of Trojans on the floor."

"Well shit." His words pretty much summed everything up. "You don't think...?"

"I don't know." I replied while the gears in my brain turned. "I think we'd remember something like that, right?"

Reaching on the ground beside him, Alex scooped up the box and examined it for a moment. He tossed it at me and I caught it in my hands. "It's not opened."

"Great." I said sarcastically. "We just had unprotected sex. No big deal." Sure enough though, it was sealed. I raised my eyebrows at the bottom of the box: 'Ribbed for her benefit', it advertised.

"I got those as a joke from Jack when he found out I was, um, interested in you." He explained unnecessarily. "I swear he thinks he's the reincarnation of Nancy Drew, spying on people's lives like that."

Despite his joke, Alex seemed concerned about my reaction over the contraceptives. Either he didn't want me to think he was sleeping with other fans, or he didn't want me to think he was just trying to get me in bed. Either way, I thought it was sweet how he flushed a little pink in the cheeks. The blush was enhanced by a peach lips print, the same shade as my lip gloss. Turning red myself, I visually inspected him for any more marks. There were various prints lightly stamped on his skin. Nothing too dangerous, I thought. His lips seemed a little raw, like they had done their job. Secretly, I wished I could remember what those lips had felt like on mine but I had no recollection of it.

I sighed, "Let's get cleaned up and come up with a really good story for this."

"Are you worried what people would think?" He asked surprised.

"Mostly I'm worried about Dorian."

"Shit. Forgot about him."

Repeating a sigh, I replied. "You always do." Walking to the bathroom door, I held it open. "Go in and wash that lipstick off of you."

Yawning, he trudged into the bathroom barefoot. After a moment of silence, he called back to me. "Melanie? You don't happen to have any concealer on you, do you?"

"Why?" I questioned suspiciously.

Alex stuck his head out of the door and pointed at the base of his neck. A hickey stood out boldly against his skin. "You left a mark more permanent than lipstick."