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“What did I drink last night?” Dana asked, letting out a pained groan as she forced herself to prop herself up with her elbows. “And why am I on your sofa?”
“The real question is what didn't you drink,” Robby replied, sounding far too cheerful to a woman who felt like there were millions of tiny hammers being bashed around her skull. “I tried to make you go home but you claimed you were comfortable on my sofa. So I left you there.”
Dana remembered bits and pieces of the night before. Drinks that tasted sweet and drinks that burnt her throat.
“Why do you look so chipper?” Dana asked, taking painkillers and the chilled water bottle from his hand.
“Because unlike you and Jack who is currently passed out in my bathtub I wasn't drinking last night,” Robby answered, sounding far too smug. “I sent a text to Benji last night and told him where you are so he wouldn't worry.”
“I hate you for having common sense,” Dana muttered underneath her breath. The flash of a memory of her and Jack drunk singing made her cringe. “I am going back to sleep, wake me in an hour babe.”