I'm too tired and sober to even attempt an answer. So I lay on the tiny couch with my feet hanging over the arm and spend a lot of energy sleeping like shit.
The rush of excitement beneath it all is easy enough to ignore.
Wonder how long that will last?
CHAPTER 10
HAZMAT
GREY
Molly's hand is on my chest.
It's nothing, just a simple gesture that, judging by the look on her face means nothing. But beneath her palm, there's an ache so deep, I feel like I can't breathe. She laughs, says something, but I can't make it out. She says it again, her smile fading, but the words are too muffled to hear. I shake my head, the weight on my chest heavier. This time, when she opens her mouth, she meows.
I wake with a start, disoriented by my surroundings most urgently, the calico cat sitting on my sternum, staring into my soul with pale green eyes. My heart's galloping beneath her as I rub the sleep from my eyes. Scout, I think Molly called her. She's unfazed when I scoop her up and sit, ruffling the top of her head before setting her down. Elbows on my knees, I drag my hands through my hair, my back aching, muscles sore. I can't remember the last time I slept on a couch. It sucks worse than I remember. Doesn't help that this one is two feet too short toget my whole body on it at once. Unsurprisingly, I slept terrible. Feels like I didn't sleep at all.
I can't believe I slept here.So fucking dumb, dude.But she looked at me with those big, sad eyes and I had to. What, I was supposed to tell her no?Yeah.I sigh and stretch my neck, my shoulders and traps, my back.
A soft, feminine groan comes from the direction of Molly's room, and I find her stumbling in my direction, fumbling with her glasses. Her hair has the prettiest curl, each ring big and blonde, darker underneath. Like Michelle Pfeiffer when she played Catwoman. Right now, it's sticking out in every direction, also a little like Catwoman. She looks a little pale, her eyes more shut than open, her lips smacking.
"Grey?" she mumbles, but when she sees me, her eyes fly open so wide, I can see the whites as she drags her gaze up and down my torso, which is shirtless. Thank god I didn't drop trou and sleep in my Jockeys.
Clearing my throat, I reach for my shirt. "Morning," I grumble.
"You stayed." She sounds so relieved, I meet her gaze when my head is through the neck and my nipples aren't out.
"Course I did. I said I would." When I stand, my entire body internally creaks and groans. "How are you feeling?"
Molly scratches her head, her eyes squinty. "I don't know. Like I'm still a little drunk, I think."
I keep the couch between us and pad into the kitchen. "That's normal. Let's get something in your belly. You'll feel better. Want some toast? Eggs, maybe? Or I could make some bacon, if you have any--"
She makes a noise I recognize--I turn on my heel to find her charging toward the bathroom with both hands over her mouth. And then, she proceeds to yak like a champion. She'll need water, some crackers maybe. When she's through, I'll bring themto her. She might not be able to get up. I've got the water and a fresh sleeve of crackers in hand and am halfway to her when she bounces out of the hall, smiling.
"Oh, man. I feel so much better. And no, sadly I don't have bacon."
"Youth," is all I say, shaking my head. "Come on, peaches. Sit. I'll get you something to eat."
"Actually, let me brush my teeth," she says, turning for the bathroom again. I've located a pan, the butter, eggs, and bread, and have the stove going by the time she gets back, taking a seat at her table, and old school, Jenny Lind thing with spindly legs and arched backs.
"You don't have to do all this, Grey."
I shrug. "I'm hungry too, if it helps."
"It does a little."
"Have fun last night?"
My back is to her, but I can hear her smiling when she speaks. "Somuch fun. Finally, I know why happy hour is so happy. "
I let out a little laugh through my nose.
"Seriously, I feel bad. Here, let me cook." I hear her get up and approach, feel her near me before I see her.
"I don't mind. You had a big night." I crack another egg into the sizzling pan and realize she's not going to let me do it without her help. "How about you get the bread for some toast and make some coffee?"
"All right."
