Sheila was passing out as she heard Javier saying something about his sister Yolanda and how she was always at her boyfriends when she was away at college.
Sheila didn't care if she came home and they had to share a bed, she just wanted the room to not spin. She thought about sleeping on the floor just so it would stop spinning. The last thing she saw was Javier leave the bedroom and close the door a bit. A stream of light still shone in from the hallway but the Sheila nodded off.
She was vaguely aware that she wasn't alone. The light in the hall had gone. The room was dark. The hip hop that was blaring from the living room earlier had been shut off. Sounds like the party had ended and everyone had gone home or to sleep. It was possible someone else had too much tequila and was stuck sleeping it off too. The thought of tequila made her slightly queasy. And there was a terrible taste in her mouth. Like she had eaten canned dog food at some point in her sleep. The thought of that also made her want to vomit.
The bed creaked and moved a little as the body she thought was in the room scooted closer. Sheila's heart jumped. She had thought she felt someone in the room, but didn't realize they were in the same bed as her. She was still in her dress, lace shirt, and under garments. But she was under a heavy comforter and was pretty sure the other body in the bed was too. Maybe it was Yolanda. She could have come home and crashed and didn't want to wake Sheila up.
The body inched even closer to Sheila. She could tell by the way the bed moved that the body had some weight to it. Nobody huge. But probably not a female.
"Yeah that's right, come home from the bar and somebody's sleeping in my house," a husky male voice whispered.
It wasn't Javier or any of the young guys at the party. His house? Maybe Javier's father?
"Little present for me I say. I have to pick up these bottles. maybe have a bit too much myself. Maybe I earned a little reward for my efforts eh?" The man whispered more to himself than Sheila.
His arm slowly creeped under the comforter towards her. It brushed ever so gently against her lace shirt by the shoulder. Then no movement. No whispering.
"Jesus Christ," Sheila thought, "He's trying to make sure I'm still asleep."
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