In Her Drawer
The next morning, Aiden woke up confused, wrapped in a pink blanket. His eyes blinked a few times, adjusting to the light. How the hell did he end up in Garfield pink pajamas that were way too tight? And this definitely wasn't his room. He was in a living room he didn't recognize, one that screamed "feminine" with all its soft, pastel decorations. His brain fumbled to piece together the night before. He'd been out drinking with his buddies.
"Michelle? Is this Michelle's place?" he muttered, his voice still hoarse from the hangover. Michelle was the only woman on his team, so it made sense she'd be the one to deal with him.
He called out her name a few more times, but the apartment stayed quiet. He groaned, pushing himself off the couch and spotting a note on the coffee table.
'You were drunk last night. Your phone died, and I didn't know where to take you, so I brought you here. Your clothes were soaked, so I changed them. Didn't want you catching a cold.