“Carter,” I mumble.

Jesus, my voice sounds like I swallowed a bucket full of gravel.  It feels that way too.

“Carter,” I groan again.  “Shut off the alarm clock.”

With my squinty eye, I turn my head as slowly as possible and see the spot next to me in bed is empty.

“Shit.”

I stick my arm out from under my cocoon and grab the first thing my fingers touch on my nightstand—a vibrator with a leash on it.  It’s a sad, sad day when something like this doesn’t faze me.  I whip it across the room and watch the giant pink rubber penis and its diamond-studded leash crash into the alarm clock and effectively shut it up.

Small bursts of memories from last night flash through my addled brain and make me wish I can have a lobotomy.

Did I sing “Like a Virgin” at a winery?  And why am I not wearing any underwear?

With my eyes squeezed shut so the bright rays of sun shining through the window don’t light them on fire, I stumble out of bed and throw on a pair of yoga pants that are crumpled on the floor. I slowly make my way out of the bedroom and into the living room.

“Yo, Claire Bear!  You’re alive!” Drew shouts from his spot on the couch as I peel my eyes open and gave him the finger for being so cheerful and not hung-over.

How is that possible? He drank way more than me.  I think.  And why is he in our living room?  I’m going to start charging this asshole rent.

I stare at the annoying smile on Drew’s face and another memory from last night assaults me as I walk up to the kitchen table and pull out a chair.

“Why do I remember you peeing somewhere in this house?” I ask with my gravelly voice that I hope is just from yelling and singing and not from puking somewhere I can’t recall.

“Did you pee on this chair?” I ask angrily as my ass hovers above the seat cushion.

“Yes, he peed in that chair,” Liz answers as she emerges from the laundry room off of the kitchen.

“Fuck, it’s like we have a puppy,” I mutter as I move to take a seat at one of the bar stools by the island instead.

“I didn’t pee that bad on it,” Drew complains as he walks into the kitchen and makes a show of looking really hard at the chair in question.

“There is no GOOD level of pee on a chair, Drew!” I yell as I take the glass of water and aspirin Liz had set down on the counter in front of me. I throw the pills in my mouth and chug the entire glass of water.

I hear the faint sound of music coming from somewhere and realize my purse is singing the theme song from “Golden Girls”.  Liz and Drew start cracking up behind me as I reach to the end of the island and grab my purse, realizing by their snickers that one of them must have changed my ring tone.

I dig through my purse trying to find the damn phone before that fucking song is stuck in my head all day.

“…..traveled down the road and back again.  Your heart is true; you’re a pal and a confidant…”

My hand finally wraps around the offending cell phone and I quickly hit the send button to stop the song before I even get it out of my purse.

“Hello?” I turn around to glare at Liz and Drew, mouthing the words “What the fuck?” to them silently as I answer the phone.  That just causes them to laugh even harder.

“Wow, I didn’t think you’d be awake yet after last night.”

The sound of Carter’s voice makes me forget that my so-called friends put some stupid ass song on my phone that I won’t be able to stop humming now.

“Did we have sex last night?” I ask, having no shame whatsoever in the fact that I don’t remember.  Generally, I like to know why I wake up with no pants or underwear on.  It’s just a little quirk I have.

“Are you referring to before or after we got home?” he asks.

“Uh, both?”

Carter sighs. “I don’t think you’re awake or sober enough to discuss the sex we had before we got home.  After…well, I do believe sex was the general idea until I got your clothes off and you puked on me.”

“Ooooh, sorry about that,” I apologize sheepishly.

“It’s my fault. I should have never introduced you to Drew,” he replies jokingly.

“He peed on our chair,” I complain, giving Drew the two-finger eye salute.

“You puked on my dick,” Carter deadpans.

“Fine, you win,” I say with a sigh.  “So where are you?”

“DUDE!  LET ME TELL HER ABOUT THE BACK DOOR ACTION ON THE BUS!” Drew yells into the phone as he comes up next to me.

I turn to look at Drew with a horrified look on my face.

“What are you talking about?” I ask him.  “Carter, what the fuck is he talking about?” I screech into the phone.  “Oh Jesus.  Did I let you…did we…OH MY GOD WE DID THAT ON A BUS SURROUNDED BY OUR FRIENDS?”

The laughter comes from all around me now.  Liz bends over so far in hysterics that she’s fallen on the floor; Drew wipes tears out of his eyes as he leans against the counter, and Carter was snorting on the other end of the phone.

“No!  No, it’s not what you’re thinking.  Even though you begged me repeatedly saying, ‘Come on just stick it in my ass!’ I figured that was not a decision you were making with one hundred percent clarity.  Tell me you at least remember being in the bathroom with me,” Carter begs.

I put my elbows up on the counter and lean my head against one hand, closing my eyes to try and conjure up the bathroom rendezvous Carter speaks of.

Everyone piles back on the bus after the third winery, a little louder and a lot drunker.  Carter slumps onto the leather bench, pulling me down next to him until I am practically sprawled on top of him with my chest resting against his.  He holds my face in both of his hands, and as the bus starts moving and our friends start yelling and goofing off in the front of the vehicle, he leans in and kissed me.  His tongue slowly pushes past my lips and sweeps through my mouth causing butterflies to erupt in the pit of my stomach and warmth to spread between my legs.  After a few minutes he pulls his mouth away from mine, and I let out a groan at the loss.

“You wanna go in the bathroom?” Carter asks with a wag of his eyebrows.

“No.  I don’t have to pee right now,” I tell him as I leaned toward him so I can kiss him again.  He tastes so yummy, like wine and sunshine and kittens.

“I’m not talking about going to the bathroom to GO to the bathroom.  I’m talking about going to the bathroom so I can stick it to you,” he says with a snort and a laugh.

“You’re so romantic.  Say it again,” I tell him as I bat my eyelashes at him.

Carter looks over my shoulder and then back down at me.

“Seriously.  No one is looking.  We could sneak into the bathroom and no one would even know.  I’ll make it quick.”

“No really, keep going.  This is totally turning me on,” I tell him in a monotone voice.

Carter pulls my face back toward him and our lips crash together.  His tongue skates over my bottom lip before plunging back into my mouth.  The pain of the week-long exiles while we work opposite shifts have become glaringly obvious as we deepened the kiss, and I practically crawl onto his lap.

Carter’s hand slides down the side of my body, brushing over one breast and curving over my hip to clutch my ass and pull me closer to him.  He moves his mouth away from my lips and starts planting warm, wet, open-mouthed kisses along my neck and collarbone until I feel like I'll melt into a puddle of goo on the floor of the bus.  He gently grazes the side of my neck with his teeth and slides his tongue over the spot.  I'm panting like a dog at this point and know I won’t make it much longer.  If he keeps this up, I'm going to throw him down on the seat and bang him in front of everyone.

“Okay, fine.  You win.  Bathroom.  Now,” I mumble through my drunken, lust-induced haze.