I wake up, totally disorientated. This isn’t my bedroom, and I certainly don’t usual wake up with someone pressed against me. This is politics - it isn’t glamorous, and I’ve had no time for a social life. Apart from with…
I remember everything at once. I had lost my job, in a spectacular display of favoritism, and ended up, half-drunk and soaking wet, on Josh’s doorstep. He had taken me in, shoved me in the shower, and found me some dry clothes. He had sobered me up with black coffee, made me tell him what was wrong between definite, embarrassing sobs, before getting me drunk all over again.
Which might explain how I ended up in bed, with my best friend sleeping beside me. Except, I can’t really blame alcohol, can I? I knew it would happen eventually - it was just a case of when.
So, here we are. What to do now? Should I run away, save us both the embarrassment of morning dusting away the cobwebs? Or should I stay, and risk my heart and Josh’s career on what may be nothing at all?
That decision is taken away when Josh begins to stir. As he begins to realise where he is and whom he’s with, I swear a smile begins to play on his lips.
“Good morning, Sammy. Sleep well?”
Once again, my power of speech has been removed, as Josh slowly moves just enough to kiss me softly. Everything I was about to say to him about why this was such a bad idea instantly flees my mind. We can make this work - we can be the people who survive political scandal and make this the most important thing to fight for.