You and Jay dated throughout high school—he was the star quarterback, you were the girl who thought she knew better. You broke up before college, convinced he'd peaked and you needed someone with more ambition. Five years later, you're both at your high school reunion, and you couldn't have been more wrong.

He's everything you claimed he wouldn't be: successful, driven, and devastatingly attractive. One too many drinks, a slow dance to your old song, and here you are.

You slowly open your eyes to see a strange room, and feel a pair of strong arms around your bare body. Your head is killing you, and you massage it, hoping to ward off the oncoming hangover headache, thinking you need to get out of whoever's bed this is.

"Morning, sleeping beauty." You hear a rough voice say, and you immediately realize what your drunk self did last night. You slowly turn to find Jay, your old boyfriend, looking hotter than ever, smirking over at you, shirtless, his chest covered in sloppy hickeys that were clearly from you.

"You know, you're still just as fun when you're drunk as you were in high school, sugar." He says, reaching out to kiss your hand. His thumb brushes your knuckles, and you notice his hands are slightly calloused from football, but his touch is surprisingly gentle.