Isit in the parking lot of the pub for at least another half hour.The windows need to defog, and so does my brain.Or maybe I just need to get the blood flowing back in that direction.
I tilt my head back against the seat and close my eyes, willing my erection away.It’s not an easy task when each time I think of Addie, I imagine the feel of her luscious tits in the palms of my hands.Jesus, I had no idea she had that body hiding beneath her loose T-shirts and oversize jumpers.Tight little arse, strong thighs, and that rack.
The drive home takes far too long, and the trek from my parking spot to the door feels like it takes even longer.I want nothing more than to sink into the memory of what Addie and I started in my car, but unfortunately, there’s a ridiculously drunk girl passed out in the corner of my sofa.
Marlee’s low-cut shirt is askew, and her skirt is doing very little to cover her arse.This is not the arse I was thinking about during the drive home.
I shake her, getting no response.Nothing.
Swearing, I drop my keys on the counter on the way to my room.I grab my quilt and a pillow.As soon as she feels the blanket on her, Marlee slides down on the couch, mumbling about steamed-up windows and breaking in.I grab a bottle of water and a bucket, setting it in front of her, just in case.This is not how I saw my night going.
After a quick text to Jimmy, explaining that there’s an inebriated girl on the couch, I lock my bedroom door.I strip to my boxer briefs—the ones with the cartoon horseshoes all over them.I wore them for luck, and they worked perfectly—until Addie and I were interrupted.
My phone pings as I climb into bed.
Jimmy: Right.Couldn’t make it to your room?
Me: Not Addie.
Jimmy: Fuck’s sake?
Me: Marlee Ubered here.Picked the lock maybe and passed out.
I get a thumbs-up and nothing further.Jimmy’s still got hours till closing and probably pitchers three bodies deep that need filling.If I were a better man, I’d have gone into the pub to help out instead of coming home straightaway, but I’ve been working there the longest out of all of us boys.I’ve earned my night off.And, with Addie on my mind, I’d have been useless anyway.
Christ, I’d probably scare the drunks with the ridiculous tent in my trousers.I’m concerned that the horseshoes on my briefs will forever be stretched out, never quite snapping back into shape.And there’s no way I’ll ever be able to sleep until I take matters in my own hands.So, I cue up my playlist from earlier—The UnBroken or maybe it was Of the Room—and reach deep for my much-needed release.
* * *
I wakein the morning to the sound of retching in the bathroom I just cleaned yesterday—you know, just in case.I should go help Marlee, bring her a glass of water, a spare toothbrush—something.But I don’t.I lie in bed, waiting for the sounds of bad decisions to quiet, when it hits me.She fucking broke into my flat.Who does that?
Suddenly, I’m motivated to get dressed and talk to her, get to the meat of the matter.Find out what the fuck she was thinking.I pull on my jeans from last night and take a deep breath before stepping out into the flat.
“Marlee, you all right?”I ask, passing the bathroom, on my way to the kitchen.I grab a fresh bottle of water and take it back down the hall.“Marlee?”
The door swings open, and the wreck of a girl walks straight out, popping the bottle from my hand and wiping at her mouth.“Have you seen my phone?”She looks around the living room, shoving her hand down the side of the sofa and beneath the cushions.She plops down on her knees, her barely covered arse arched high in the air as she rests her head on the floor.“There it is.”She stretches her arm flat under the sofa and retrieves her phone.Her dead phone.from the sneer and the hateful look she gives it.
“Can you give me a ride?”she asks.There’s far too much suggestion in that simple question as her eyes rake down my bare chest, settling on the open button of my jeans.I really wish I had taken the time to throw a shirt on as well.
Fuck no.
“Erm, let me check my messages real quick.”Hightailing it to my room, I grab my phone and shoot a text to Aidan, letting him know I’ll take opening the pub today.
“Sorry, looks like I’ve got to fill in for Kieran, the new kid,” I call out.Turning toward the door, I jump at the sight of Marlee propped against my doorjamb with her tiny T-shirt in her hand.“Ehm, here.”I toss her my phone.“Call an Uber and go.”
She catches the phone with a huff and scowls as she pulls up the app, tapping away at the screen.
“Just leave it on the kitchen counter, and lock the door behind you,” I shout.
I’ll have to ask her another time about how she got in here.Gathering my clean clothes, I head into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind me.It’s a completely pointless act; if she broke into my flat, the lock on the bathroom door won’t stop her.
I hold my breath and take the world’s fastest shower, certainly the quickest I’ve ever done the morning after a first date.But, when I’m dried and dressed with contacts in, I’m thrilled to see my phone on the counter, the flat empty, and the front door locked.
* * *
People slowly tricklein the day after.
St.Patrick’s Day is Francie’s favorite day, and while the tips are amazing that night, the day after is significantly less impressive.
