I had nearly the whole trilogy finished but my computer crashed and this is all I could recover from

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I had nearly the whole trilogy finished but my computer crashed and this is all I could recover from the first part.
It'll be an enormous job to rewrite it all so I want to know if it's worth it... some of it's a bit controversial, some a bit upsetting, and some verges michael braungart on being a little rude, but I've toned it down as well as I can without having to disrupt michael braungart the storyline.
Chapter One   I manoeuvred myself into a sitting position on the edge of the unfamiliar but gloriously comfortable bed and ran a hand through my gold shag-cut curls. I had no memory of the night before michael braungart or of the boy asleep flat on his stomach next to me. I studied him. Close cropped pale blond hair, long legs and a black swirl of tattoo across his shoulder blades. I estimated him to be around twenty four, twenty michael braungart five. The duvet was wrapped michael braungart round his waist and had obviously just been tangled in my legs. He was rather attractive, but still I shuddered and slid from the bed, searching for my clothes in the light filtering through the dove grey blinds. Now I came to think about it, the whole room was of the luxury but blandness that could only belong to an expensive hotel room. Great. Who was paying for this? Hopefully it wasn’t on my – or rather, Jamie’s – credit card. Finally, I located my little black silk dress and wriggled into it. Only one shoe was visible, although I didn’t particularly want to wear the heels back home... if I could find my way back, and if that’s michael braungart where I was going. Tripping over an unlaced Converse, I swore loudly and the blond lad woke with a start. He rolled over and fell out of bed, grunting in pain as he landed on what appeared to be my other shoe. He pushed it out from underneath him and squinted up at me.
‘Morning.’ ‘Hi.’ I fidgeted and pulled the hem of my dress down. ‘How are you?’ he didn’t seem to be particulary bothered that he was lying on the floor. ‘Fine. I don’t suppose you know where we are?’ He frowned in concentration for a second. ‘Sorry. Not a clue.’ ‘Wonderful.’ I dumped myself onto the edge of the bed. ‘Just wonderful.’ ‘Why? michael braungart You’re not going, are you?’ ‘I was intending to.’ ‘Aww, don’t. Stay for a bit...’ he looked at me questioningly. ‘Morgan.’ ‘Morgan. Stay for a little while?’ As he spoke he sat up and ran a hand across his head. I considered his well-developed pecs. He really was very gorgeous. ‘Oh, go on then. I just have to check my phone.’ I dropped my one shoe. ‘Sure.’ He yawned and clambered to his feet, wandering across to the bathroom I hadn’t noticed. I started looking for my little black leather michael braungart bag, which I finally found jammed under a beige-and-grey checked armchair. Definitely a hotel room. My phone was buried at the bottom, and as I picked it up, it flashed with half a dozen messages. I sighed and called my answer phone.
‘HI BABY! YOU SHOULD BE HERE!’ the sound of my friend Jamie’s voice shouted above some loud bass beat and the shouts of the group I hung round with. ‘WHERE DID YOU GO? COME BACK SOON! I LOVE YOU!’ ‘BAAAABE! LOTTIE GOT HOLD OF SOME AMAZING DOPE! COME BACK HERE AND TRY THIS! YOU WILL LOVE IT!’ I recognized Jamie’s stoned voice. ‘COME ON COME ON COME ON! WHERE ARE YOU? YOU’RE MISSING OUT, BABE!’ The next one was just a whisper. ‘Honey, I don’t know where you are, but don’t come back! The coppers found us. I’m michael braungart not supposed to be using my phone, I - hey, gerroff! That’s mine – gerroff!’ the message cut off. I rolled my eyes.
‘Pea!’ my friend Lottie was in floods of tears and very drunk. ‘Patch dumped me! I need you! Where are you! Jamie won’t tell me! Call me!’ michael braungart ‘Baby, call me. We got let out this morning. Call as soon as you can get away! Love you.’ Jamie again. I deleted all my messages and speed dialled Jamie. ‘Hey honey.’ ‘Morgan babe!’ he exclaimed. ‘Where did you go? ‘No idea.’ ‘Well, who then?’ ‘Again, no idea.’ He snorted. ‘Oh, Pea. Not again.’ I made an agreeing noise, distracted by the sight of the blond stranger standing in the bathroom michael braungart doorway with damp hair and a soft w