When I imagined undressing her, it wasn't like this.

Well, that's a first.

I've never had a girl throw up on me before. Throw things at me, sure. I distinctly remember when my ex threw a frying pan at my head during a particularly intense fight. That kind of image is hard to erase from your head. But, no one has ever blown chunks all over my shoes.

Alexa straightens up, looking mildly embarrassed, and wiping her mouth before slurring, "Your shoe's untied."

Sure enough, when I look down, I see that one of my laces has indeed come undone, the overhead glow of a nearby streetlamp illuminating them just enough to show me that they are ruined. I shrug, using the toes of one shoe to pull off the other and then repeating the process. I pick them up at the heels, which are, thankfully, clean, and throw them into a nearby trash can.

The cold seeps through my thin socks, but it's the least of my worries as the girl in front of me sways unsteadily on her feet. Her cheeks are flushed a deep red and her mahogany eyes are battling to stay open, drifting closer together as she takes a tentative step forward. She looks like she's about to keel over.

"Let's get you upstairs." I grab one of her arms and sling it over my shoulder so I can support her weight. She makes no move to argue, allowing me to guide her inside and push the elevator button while stumbling slightly in her high shoes.

"You're cute." She giggles, poking my nose with her finger and offering me a goofy grin.

So are you.

But, instead of telling her that, I wait for the elevator doors to open, looking away from the beautiful girl beside me and silently urging them to hurry up. After a few awkward moments, they finally slide open with a loud grating sound. Dragging Alexa inside, I ask her which floor she lives on, hoping to all hell that she actually remembers.

Without answering me, she leans forward to press the button, almost toppling us both over as she loses her balance. "Whoops!" She laughs loudly, the melodic sound echoing around the confined space of the elevator.

I want to be annoyed at how drunk she is, but I can't. Because she really is, very cute. Her hair, which had been sleek and styled when I first saw her, is now in disarray, strands falling all over the place and tickling her cheeks which are still flushed pink. She's beautiful, even when intoxicated and the giggles that keep erupting from her mouth send tingles all the way down my spine.

The elevator dings loudly, breaking me from my trance and I have to look away before she catches me staring at her. She digs in her bag and pulls out a key attached to a beaded purple chain, handing it to me as we step out the elevator, and pointing to a door just down the hall.

At which point, she collapses against me.

Thank fuck I am still holding her arm around my shoulder or she would have hit the ground pretty hard and had a bruise to match the hangover she's in for tomorrow. I scoop her legs under my other arm and carry her towards the door. Her head lolls back against my shoulder, her eyes drifting shut.

Ah crap. Seriously, how much did she have to drink?

She doesn't feel too heavy, especially considering the amount of beer crates I have to cart around for work. But, the trouble comes when I need to get the key into the lock. At a loss, I stand for a moment, staring at the door as though it will open on its own.

Unfortunately, it doesn't comply with my wishes. Cursing quietly, I place her down on the floor with her back against the wall before sliding the key into place and opening up, only to be confronted with darkness. Luckily, when I fumble around the wall by the door, my fingers come into contact with a switch, which I quickly flick on, flooding the room with light.

The apartment is nice and spacious, with an open plan living room and kitchen. To the left is a closed door, and on the right is a passageway which I'm hoping leads to her bedroom. If not, I'm not sure what I will do. It feels really wrong and intrusive to be walking into the home of a girl I barely know. But she doesn't seem capable of making it inside on her own and I can't just leave her out in the hallway.

So I pick her up again, marvelling at the fact that she still seems to be asleep, and carry her through, closing the door with my foot behind me. I head towards the passageway, stopping short when I hit yet another road block.

I don't know which room is hers.

There are two, one on the left and one on the right. But looking into the door of the one on the right, I can see that there's a mountain of clothes on the bed. I could move them all, but then I would have to put Alexa on the floor again while I did so.

Screw it. I'm pretty sure Diana won't be home tonight anyway.

So I cart Alexa into the room on the left, whether it is actually hers or not, and place her gently on the bed, using the dim light from the living room to guide my way. Once I've pulled off her uncomfortable looking shoes, I tuck a pillow under her head and decide she should be fine like that. I'm just about to turn away when I see there's a bit of vomit on her dress.

Fuck, I'm going to have to help her change.

I glance towards the cupboards; there is no way I can go digging through them. What if she has private stuff in there? What if this is Diana's room? Or worse, what if its contents scar me for life? It's been a long time since I've had a woman in my home, but I distinctly remember all the products and personal items that come with them. An involuntary shiver runs through me as I remember all the hair products Kayla used to leave around the house.

Who needs that many anyway?

Besides, that was an entirely different situation. Kayla was my long-time girlfriend, it was perfectly acceptable for me to see her underwear and... other things. I'd even had to buy them for her a few times. I barely know Alexa, it wouldn't be right of me to catch a glimpse at her personal belongings.

So I slip off my shirt, ignoring the cool air that immediately hits my torso, and manage to pull her into an upright position. I hold her in place long enough to unzip her dress and pull it off, desperately trying not to look at what lies underneath it and chucking it into the corner of the room.

When I imagined undressing her, it definitely wasn't like this.

I tug my shirt over her head and slip her arms through it. Its miles too big for her, the hem reaching her thighs, and the sleeves coming all the way down to her elbows, but it will have to do for tonight. It's more difficult than I could have imagined to keep my eyes averted while I'm dressing her. I do my best, knowing it wouldn't be right to ogle her in her underwear when she's in this state.

Her skin is soft to the touch, like silk, and her legs are long and toned. Velvet hair tickles my cheeks as I lean forward to pull the shirt down at the back. Her shoulders are slender, curving up to a graceful neck.

Damn, she's got a nice body. Surely there's an award I should win for not staring?

I pull the blanket over her and tuck her in gently, making sure she's comfortable. She rolls onto her side, looking content and snuggling into the duvet. Satisfied that she will be okay from her on out, I turn to leave, stopping in my tracks when I hear her mutter from behind me.

"Where are you going?"

I look down at my shirtless torso, my shoeless feet. It's definitely not my best look, not to mention that it's the early hours of the morning and pretty cold outside. "Home."

If I can get a cab driver to stop for me while I look like this. They might mistake me for a drunken party goer and not want to risk letting me into their car.

"Please stay with me," she begs.

I should say no, I know I should. But to be honest, I don't actually want to and I can't come up with a convincing reason why I shouldn't stay. So, I slip my phone out of my pocket and send a quick text to Aiden, letting him know I won't be home tonight, before climbing into the bed next to her.

"Thank you," she whispers, leaning her head against my chest.

I tell my racing heart to calm the fuck down, and stroke her hair out of her face.

"You're welcome."

It has been a long, long time since I have had a girl curled up against me like this. My life doesn't leave room for a girlfriend. Not that I have wanted one since Kayla, who couldn't handle my dad's illness and the amount of time I dedicated to paying for his treatments.

I had forgotten how nice it feels.

But lying here with Alexa, who is now softly snoring as she drifts off into dreamland, I can't deny, it feels really good. She snuggles up closer in her sleep and I have to fight the urge to place a soft kiss on her temple, knowing that it's really not my place to do so.

But damn, do I want to.

I need a distraction, before I do something I will regret. So, I peel her off me and go through to the kitchen to get her a glass of water, certain she will need it, come morning. She's in for one hell of a hangover tomorrow and I do not envy her.

I notice a glass by the sink and grab that, filling it with water and taking a long sip of it while leaning against the counter. It's not my house so I'm not sure if I should turn off the lights or leave them on. I should also probably look the front door, I was too preoccupied with the drunk girl in my arms to do so when I first came in.

Leaving the lights on so I can find my way, I turn the key in the lock and leave it on a small table by the door before taking the glass of water through to the room where Alexa's sleeping.

She looks so cute. She's shifted since I left, her arms thrown across the covers. I contemplate leaving now and trying to find my way home. After all, she wouldn't notice if I did, but I can't quite bring myself to do it. It's late, I'm tired, and honestly I just don't want to.

I carefully climb back into the bed, trying not to jostle her too much. As soon as I'm in, she moves back to my side, flinging her arm across my chest as though I have never left, her head leaning against my shoulder and tucking perfectly into my neck.

I don't even know her yet, but I do know I want to. I want her to tell me more about her family, her life.

But I can just imagine the runner she would do if she ever got to really know me. There's not much I can really offer a girl like her. She's accomplished and successful. I'm just a guy who works at a bar, drowning in debt and medical bills.

I should stay away, for both our sakes.

And I drift off to sleep telling myself that I will actually be able to do that.