Not cool.
My stomach lurches and bile rises in the back of my throat, but since I can’t peel myself off the bed, I swallow it back down.
I’ll just lie here until it passes.
Or until I die.
Whichever comes first.
My temple throbs like a motherfucker and suddenly that joke isn’t so funny.
How much did I drink last night? I haven’t been this hungover since freshmen year.
With good reason.
I’m too old for this shit. I feel around on the nightstand, hoping for a bottle of water, but all I find is Starlight Twinkle.
An irrational sense of annoyance takes hold and I fling the stuffed animal across the room. There’s a quietthunkas she hits the wall and slides to the floor.
If she was really good luck, I wouldn’t be hungover AF.
“Oh, good. You’re awake.”
I lift an arm and raise my middle finger in the general direction of Reid’s voice. It sounds like he’s near the door, but since I can’t open my eyes, it’s hard to be sure.
“I brought water.” His heavy steps cross the room and then he’s pressing a cold plastic bottle into my hand. “Drink up, asshole.”
“That would require sitting up,” I mumble.
“Jesus. You smell like you just came off a two-week bender.”
He’s not wrong. My hair is damp and I’m pretty sure the sour stench of sweat and alcohol is all me.
I manage to open one eyelid. “Thanks for the water. You can go now.”
“Not a chance.” He moves to the desk and plants himself in the chair, leaning back and locking his hands behind his head like he’s settling in for a nice long chat. “We need to talk.”
I’m dying and he wants to hold social hour?
Fuck. That.
“I believe our bromance has a hangover clause that precludes the discussion of serious topics while said hangover ismurdering your best friend.”
Reid snorts. “If you can use words likepreclude, you’re fine.” He pauses, and when he continues, there’s concern in his voice. “Last night was pretty intense.”
“No shit.”
I hardly remember yesterday’s game. Only that I couldn’t wait for it to be over so I could get blitzed and forget Senior Day altogether.
Mission accomplished.
“Cooper.”
I groan and drag myself to a sitting position. Reid using my full name is the team captain equivalent of a mom using your middle name.
Mom.
My chest tightens at the memory of the splint on her wrist and I send up a silent prayer that her evening was less eventful than mine. The old man was pissed when he left and the thought of him hurting her because of my actions cuts deeper than any blade ever could.
