Noah

Morning light bleeds through the gap in the blackout curtains, cutting straight across the bed.

It lands directly on Noah’s face.

He groans, turning away instinctively before slowly forcing his eyes open. His vision blurs for a moment, swimming with the remnants of sleep and whatever the hell he drank last night.

His head pounds.

Fragments of memory flicker through his mind—loud music, flashing lights, some cheerleader’s birthday party. Everyone “important” had been invited, apparently. And Noah, star linebacker and one of the most recognizable guys at school, had made the list.

That’s where the memories stop.

He rubs at his eyes and pushes himself upright with another groan, his muscles stiff from sleeping wrong.

Then he freezes. His ass hurts.

Noah blinks hard, trying to shake the thought away.

Okay. Weird. Maybe he fell? Pulled something?

His eyes drift around the room for the first time.

Band posters he doesn’t recognize cover the walls. The blankets tangled around his waist definitely aren’t his. And sitting calmly in the doorway is a dog he has never seen before, staring at him like this is completely normal. His stomach drops.

This isn’t his room.

He jerks upright fully now, panic slicing through the haze. He’s naked. His clothes are scattered across the floor like they’d been thrown there in a hurry.

Then he notices the clothes beside them.

Men’s clothes. His pulse spikes.

What the hell happened last night?

Noah stares at the bathroom door as the sound of running water reaches him. The shower’s on.

Someone else is here.

Swallowing hard, he slowly sinks back against the mattress, heart hammering as he waits for whoever’s inside to come out.