Ruth's head was pounding before she even opened her eyes.

It was a dull ache that knocked against the front of her skull, pressing her to keep her eyes closed against the light pouring through on the other side of her eyelids. Her body was already dragging in a soreness that lingered throughout her limbs whenever she rolled or moved across the bed. Mouth dry, she wondered when the last time she had water was. Fuck, she was thirsty. And why the hell was Terry snoring so loud?

"Terry," Ruth groaned, wincing with the action.

Terry sucked up her next snore. "Sorry," she mumbled groggily.

Ruth didn't know how they were going to make it to brunch. Not only did she feel like a zombie, but she was pretty sure she looked like one, too. All the more reason, she supposed, to get up and rub a little make-up on before sliding her signature hungover sunglasses on across her eyes. So, after much blinking and debating, she painfully found the will to get up and walk to the bathroom, her surprisingly fully charged phone in hand after she tugged it off the charger. She didn't remember ever plugging it in, but then again, she didn't remember much of the previous night, anyway.

Well, at first she didn't. In fact, she went through the motions of using the bathroom and washing her hands before something strange registered in her mind. While brushing her teeth, she mentally braced herself for how she was surely going to look before glancing up at her reflection.

Her free-of-make-up reflection.

Ruth froze, her toothbrush sticking out of her mouth, and clenched tightly in her hand. Eyes widening, her mind blanked, then ran, and blanked again in a vicious cycle of confusion. It wasn't until she glanced at her bonnet that she dropped her toothbrush in the sink as she accidentally inhaled too hard.

No. It had to have been a dream. It couldn't have been a memory. There was no way in hell the previous night had happened.

But something in her gut told her it did. She gripped her phone and slid to the floor of the bathroom dramatically, her mind back to racing a hundred mph.

Ruth vaguely remembered the previous night. Though she didn't remember getting back to the hotel room, she remembered running into Raffo beforehand, and he must have somehow ended up in her room. But he obviously didn't stay, so nothing happened, that she thought of. She would have remembered that, at least. She did, however, remember him—holding her hand? Wiping her make-up off? But why did the bonnet jog her memory? Did he put that on too?

She was never drinking again. She swore it. And she blamed the after affects of it for the way her heart quickened in her chest as she thought about him tending to her. He was really that tentative with her? Even after how she constantly treated him?

Ruth's phone buzzed in her hand. She blinked and looked down at the lit screen.

Emily: Hey babe! How was your night? Didn't drink too much did you?

Ruth closed her eyes, guilt easing its way through her body. What was she supposed to say? "I had a good night and I saw Raffo but I can't remember if we did anything?" or "I got so shitfaced that I may or may not have invited Raffo up to my room?"

Gross, those both sounded like a recipe for disaster. So, she sent something safe back until she could remember what happened.

Ruth: Hey! It was good, and I may or may not have mixed my alcohols. Bleh.

Emily: I send my condolences. Go get a Bloody Mary or something greasy. Should help (:

Ruth groaned. Why did Emily have to be such a good girlfriend all the time? Ruth was so prone to messing up all the time, it only left her feeling more and more guilty the longer she stayed in Oklahoma.

She was getting deeper and deeper in trouble and she wasn't so sure how to control it anymore.

Or if she should.

*****

Ruth didn't know what to expect when she went downstairs to meet up with the rest of the girls for brunch. Would she meet hungover girls? Girls who were chipper and ready for the day at the pool? The bachelor party gang joining theirs? She honestly didn't know, and not knowing made her nervous.

She opted for a black high wasted two-piece bathing suit underneath a mid-thigh, white colored cover up. She twisted her hair up into a messy ponytail with very little make-up just to cover up how tired she looked. Her hungover sunglasses, truly a fashion staple, slid over her eyes and she was ready to go.

Ruth and Terry were just getting into the elevator when the poor hungover girl finally looked over and said her first sentence of the day. Which, of course, consisted of a compliment.

"You look hot," Terry commented, sniffling as she nursed a headache with the rubbing of her fingers on her temple. "I feel like a mess."

"You did drink a lot," Ruth admitted, chuckling. "But you look beautiful either way."

Terry smiled at that. "I know you're lying, but thanks anyway. Fuck, I barely remember last night."

Ruth tilted her head. "Yeah, I wondered what time you got to the room. And how?"

"I think Johnny took me up at like 3 or something."

She winced at that. "Ouch."

"Yeah," Terry agreed, then paused. She pursed her lips thoughtfully and tilted her head. "Wait, how'd you get up here last night?"

Ruth swallowed thickly, glancing away as the elevator grew closer to the bottom level. "I uh—I don't remember. I think . . . Raffo may have taken me up."

Terry let out one dramatic gasp, the sound ricochetting in the small space. Ruth grimaced as she lept forward and clutched onto her arm tightly. "TELL. ME. EVERYTHING."

Luckily, the elevator doors opened before Ruth got the chance to say anything else after. Ruth couldn't even say 'I'll tell you later', for the boys on the other side of the elevator were all too familiar and looked over at the right time. Terry quickly dropped Ruth's arm and Ruth cleared her throat just when Johnny called out.

"Babe!" he smiled, waving his hand.

Terry flashed Ruth a look that clearly said 'later' and went to make her way over to him when Ruth lurched forward, grabbing her arm.

"The boys aren't eating with us are they?" Ruth hissed, her voice panicked.

Terry shrugged. "They weren't supposed to, but I think since we're eating in the same place together anyway, they are."

"Why didn't you guys tell me?" she said, trying and failing to keep the annoyance from leaking into her voice. They could have mentioned it at any point and get they didn't. Did they want her and her ex to constantly be in the same room?

And if they did . . . then why?

Terry's eyes softened, her grimace sympathetic and full of such love, it only hurt Ruth's chest more. "Because, we—"

"Good morning my loves!" Jana sung, interrupting their conversation as she came waltzing over. She wrapped an arm around Ruth and Terry's shoulders, looking as refreshed as ever and not at all reading the room. "Ready for a dip in the pool?"

"A trip to the spa?" Chey chimed in over their shoulders.

"Endless days in my chaise. And the whole day according to moi," Jana sung, winking at the lot of them. "Now let's get some food so we can get the hell out of here!"

Ruth swallowed back her irritation, shooting Terry a look that said 'later' that time. Terry subtly nodded, and they allowed Jana to steer them toward the awaiting guys. Unable to help herself, Ruth searched for one guy in particular and easily found him within seconds between Eddie and Johnny. Her stomach flipped when she realized he was already staring at her before she got the chance to look for him.

Much to her dismay, he looked absolutely gorgeous in his vacation persona. With his brown skin on display beneath a white button up that was undone halfway down, a pair of black swim shorts attached to toned thighs, and his hair falling silkily past his shoulders. The warmth in his summery eyes was different than his usual mask of coldness, and the pretty color was enchanting. She hadn't seen him look so thawed and relaxed since she first saw him at the garage. It was . . . intoxicating just to look at. She didn't need that Bloody Mary after all.

Fuck, she was in trouble. Especially when Jana released her and everyone started walking to the table.

Everyone except Ruth and Raffo, who hadn't once taken their eyes off one another. Neither of them moved any closer, but they couldn't have been more than a foot apart so it hadn't mattered anyway. And from where Ruth was standing, just the scent of his cologne was enough to make her swoon and dizzy.

"Hey," Raffo finally greeted, his voice husky and deep.

Chills climbed over her bones and shook her to her very core. "Hi."

He combed back his stray waves of beautiful dark brown hair and glanced down at her see-through wear very briefly, before making eye contact with her again. "How are you feeling?" he asked casually, shoving his clenched fists into his pockets.

On fire. Confused. Hot. Bothered. All of the above.

"Fine. Just woke up with a little headache is all, but nothing Advil can't solve," she joked half-heartedly.

The curl to his lips set her soul ablaze. "I'm glad."

"I wanted to um—thank you for that actually. I don't remember much of last night and how I got to my room, but I remember you being there and I wanted to thank you for that."

He nodded, his body perking up as he examined her face. Something calculated flashed in his eyes and he furrowed his eyebrows. "You don't remember last night? And us . . ."

"We didn't—we didn't do—we couldn't have," Ruth stumbled, starting to panic over the thought of cheating on Emily.

Raffo's laugh was raspy and seductive to her ears and she seriously needed to get her stupid body under control because it definitely wasn't appropriate. She had a girlfriend back home counting on her to be faithful. And by damn she wasn't going to let her body give into its selfish desires. No matter how tempting he was.

"No, no, we didn't do anything like that. Not that you didn't want to," he smirked, his lips sinfully sparking heat throughout her body. Then she registered what he just said and her cheeks flamed hot, her throat tight. "But you were drunk and I'd never agree to do anything with you while you're under the influence. I was actually gonna ask if you remembered us talking."

Ruth, flooded with absolute relief but still embarrassed, tried her best to remember what happened the previous night. Maybe fragments of small conversation, a word here and a word there, but nothing that would suggest it being deep enough for what he was talking about. It all just left her more confused.

"I don't remember," she admitted.

Raffo made a sound in the back of his throat and disappointment simmered in his once starry gaze, dimming the hopefulness that was once there. Ruth was almost sorry she couldn't remember. She didn't like seeing him so crestfallen because of her shitty memory, so she forced out an, "I'll work on trying to remember. I doubt you'll tell me what it was about, anyway."

He shook his head and ruffled a hand through his hair. "I'd rather you figure it out first. I'm sure you will."

"I'm sure I will too," she agreed, then tilted her head towards their rowdy table. "We should probably go sit down."

Raffo nodded and gestured out towards the table. "After you."

Ruth, fixing her pool bag on her shoulder, walked in front of him and led the way to where their friends were sitting. There was little to no surprise that the only two chairs left at the table were right across from each other, but Ruth curled in her suspicion and sat down beside Selene. Selene wore a neon green bathing suit underneath a translucent cover, which looked totally amazing against her dark brown skin, and her Afro was picked out and perfect. She emanated vacation vibes without a care in the world.

"Hey girl," Selene greeted, her smile dazzling.

"Hey," Ruth said, smiling back. She sat down in the chair beside her and picked up the menu, using it as a wall between herself and the attractive guy sitting across from her with his arms crossed, his shirt partially open, and a crooked smile on his face as he joked with Carter, Selene's boyfriend.

Fucking hell, Ruth thought to herself. It was going to be a long day.

*****