ELLA'S POV
Okay. What the hell happened?
My head was pounding like a drum in a rock concert. No, scratch that—like a bunch of monkeys having a rave party inside my skull.
Sweet Lord.
What the fuck did I drink?
I groaned, rubbing my temples as I blinked up at the ceiling. Why was everything so bright? Was the sun angry at me too? What did I ever do to it?
I forced myself to sit up, and that's when I noticed it.
The smell.
Cologne.
A very masculine, very familiar, very NOT mine scent wrapped around me like a second skin.
What the—?
I looked down.
And there it was.
A T-shirt.
A VERY large, VERY male, VERY NOT MINE T-shirt.
And not just any T-shirt—JASON'S T-SHIRT.
Oh. Hell. No.
My heart stopped. Then it sprinted. Then it stopped again.
I lifted the hem, checking if—no, no, I had my underwear on. Thank God.
But still—WHY the hell was I wearing his shirt?!
I tried to think back, rewind the events of last night like a horror movie I didn't want to watch but had to.
