“Hey!” Sawyer called out. “I think I found them!”
I ignored him and started trying the multitude of keys in her door.
“Wait, nope! That’s just a Cheeto!”
The door gave way and I kicked it open, flicking on the light. The couch was closest, so I dropped her there, shoved a pillow under her head, and removed her shoes. I could still hear Sawyer outside, shouting about something, but I didn’t pay attention as I went in search of a bucket.
If I had been nice, I could have carried her to her room, but that was a little too much work for two in the morning, especially since I didn’t know where it was. By the time I got back out to the truck, Sawyer was on his knees digging under my seats.
“What the hell are you doing?”
His head popped up, but he was all over the place as he tried to find me with his eyes.
“Dude, do you know how much change you have down here?”
I looked at his open palm and sighed. “That’s not change. You’re holding a charger.”
“Really?”
He examined it for a solid minute while I waited for him to get off his knees.
“You ready to get inside?”
“Oh, did you get in?”
“Yeah, about five minutes ago.”
“Cool,” he nodded, dragging himself to his feet by gripping the door with all his might.
“Shut the door,” I said as I turned to go to his house.
The door banged shut just as he let out a girly yelp. Slowly turning, I rolled my eyes to the heavens when I saw him laying flat on his back.
“Hey, something’s wrong. Everything’s dark!”
Once I got him inside, I was never speaking to him again.
6
JOSIE
There wasno way in hell I would make it through this day if those drums kept pounding at full volume.
“Stop!” I called out, growling in anger when the drums didn’t quiet.
I was going to kill him. When had Sawyer decided to become a drummer, and why the hell had he decided that first thing in the morning was the best time to practice?
Peeling my crusted eyes open, I squinted around the extremely bright, extremely painful room. I was on the couch, not in my bed. That explained the massive crick in my neck and the tweak in my back.
I slid my legs to the floor, only to kick a bucket from the side of the couch. “How the heck did I get here?”
Bad decisions and alcohol swarmed my mind as little bits and pieces of the night before pummeled me.
“Oh, that was so very bad,” I muttered, pressing my hand to the side of my head where it felt like a spike was being driven through my temple.
And yet, Sawyer continued to play the drums.
Shoving to my feet, I stumbled down the hall and slammed my fist against his door several times before flinging it open. But he wasn’t playing the drums. He was actually hanging off the edge of the bed with his mouth gaping.
