The morning after the night before Richie, you best wake up.
Why?
Because it's rude to sleep when you have a guest.
Guest? Huh?
Richie dragged his eyes open, and blinked, screwing his face up and rubbing at it as he rolled over, yawning, the freezing on the spot. Everything from the previous evening suddenly hit him, and he turned his head to see where Rachel had been sleeping, and wasn't. He saw up and saw her coming from the bathroom, a robe on, heading for the table.
"Uh, morning," he said, eyes darting for where he'd left, or whatever, his boxers. He saw them on the floor just near the bed and slid out from under the sheets, grabbed them, and dragged them on. "Sleep alright?"