Patrick's POV

I woke up with a splitting headache. It was light out, the sunshine overwhelming the curtains that were fully closed, and it took me a moment to realize where I was and why my head hurt.

Dad warned me never to get into a drinking contest with a Russian.

He should have warned me never to try and keep up, either. I looked to the bedside table, two bottles of water and some Tylenol were there with a note. I picked it up, it had her smell. "Thought you might need this, love. Come down for brunch when you've slept it off. Love you, Mischa." I smiled, pounding...