The Hangover

It took a few minutes for the blurry room to come into focus. That's when Salvador Moreno realized he wasn't dreaming. The agonizing throbbing in his head was real. He turned his body slowly and very cautiously so as to not further the strength of the pounding. Something jerked in his stomach, and his mouth began to water. "Oh, shit."

He froze, willing the nausea to go away. After a few moments, it did. He glanced around, assessing his predicament. Two things were clear: he was buck naked and he wasn't home. Then it dawned on him—the bachelor party. No, he wasn't home. He wasn't even in California. He was in none other than sin city, Las Vegas.

Sal sat up, inching his way to the side of the bed, careful not to stir up trouble in his stomach. He blinked hard when he saw them. As if it would make them go away, he blinked again—still there—a pair of panties—a very sexy pair of black panties. They adorned the floor just off the side of the bed.

Panicked, he tried to remember what happened the night before, but everything was a blur. One thing he did remember was that he and his buddies weren't supposed to leave the casino, not with the amount of bars and clubs readily available here at the Hard Rock Café, where they were staying. They could party their asses off without ever having to step foot outside the casino doors.

The only thing he recalled was the first few hours of drinking at the bar then at a nightclub. After that, things got choppy. The rounds of shots kept coming. But he didn't remember any girls. Hooking up was the last thing on his mind.

Glancing around the room for any other clues, he noticed the folded note on the nightstand. His name was handwritten on the outside. He stared at it for a second before reaching for it. Almost afraid to open it, he held it and squeezed his eyes shut. The thrumming of the blood pumping through his veins continued in his ears.

Opening only one eye, he glanced at the note and flipped it open.

Went to get us some real coffee. Be back in a few! XOXO.

His stomach did a flip, and he thought he was going to be sick. Who the hell had he brought back to the room with him? He stood up and began to pace, running his fingers through his hair. Fuck the headache—what the hell had he done? But he couldn't forget the nausea that easily. It was brutal, and it came without warning.

He rushed to the restroom and threw up. With the water running while he rinsed his face, he hadn't heard the door open.

"How you feeling?"

Sal spun around, and the room spun with him, causing him nearly to lose his balance. It was a good thing he held on to the vanity for support, because his legs almost gave out on him when he saw her. This was even worse than he'd imagined.

More updates coming TODAY 3-25-16