Page 11 of Gravity

Asher nods and Mark heads out of the door.

As I finish my own beer, I’m in two minds to call it a night myself, but my friend here has other ideas.

“Look, I know you’re going through some shit today, I get it, but can you at least try and cheer the fuck up? I’ve not been home in weeks, and the desert air with no water seems more appealing than your personality right now.”

Fuck. He’s right. He has been away for too long, and the first time we have together, I’m sitting acting like a fucking idiot.

“Fine. I’ll be more smiley for the rest of the night.”

“There’s a good boy. Does that mean you want another drink?”

I look down at my beer bottle. The thought of drinking more makes my stomach twist. I’ve promised myself I will never be like her, yet with my underlying anguish, the never-ending guilt, and the desire that’s lay dormant for too long—about to turn up on my doorstep any day soon—the thought of another drink is rather appealing.

“Yeah. Let’s get shitfaced.”

Chapter Four

Grayson

The second I feel the ice-cold water splash over my face, I bolt upright, gasping for breath, and trying to work out what the hell is going on. Asher laughs at the side of me, and last night hits me like a freight train along with a headache that’s now pounding.

Fuck.

“Morning, princess. I’d ask if you slept okay, but I’ve been trying to wake you for the last ten minutes.”

“So, you decided to try and drown me instead?” I snap.

“Wanted to see if you were already dead.”

“I feel fucking dead.” I scrub my hand down my wet face. The feel of the water on my skin is somewhat refreshing, but it’s only awakened the thirst I have. After I’d decided to get my shit together last night, I hadn’t expected it to play out the way it did. I’d drunk my body weight in alcohol and partied like it was my last chance to. The latter now becoming a reality. It was the last time.

It got to a point last night that I couldn’t have given a fuck. All bets had been off, and the drink entered my system faster than if I’d been on an I.V.

Looking around, I find myself on Asher’s living room floor. My shirt is off, my jeans covered in beer stains, and I’m currently only wearing one boot. The last thing I remember is…

Shit. What is the last thing I remember?

“What the hell happened last night?” I groan. “And where the hell is my other boot?”

“What happened was you turned the frown upside down and ended up happier than I’ve seen you in ages. We drank. We sang. Some pretty girl gave me the best fucking sex. We drank some more. Left Linc and Rex God knows where and somehow ended up at mine. Not that I can remember that part.”

Jesus.

I look over at him sitting on his couch looking fresh as shit. How the hell he’s managed to look so good after the amount of alcohol we’d had is beyond me. It’s going to be a long fucking day of self-inflicted suffering.

Laying back down, I try to ease the pounding in my head, but then as if Asher’s words have just registered, a sudden wave of panic hits my stomach. “Please tell me I never fucked anyone last night.”

“Why, because you can’t remember her face?”

“That and the fact I have a reputation.”

He laughs. “And I don’t?”

“You couldn’t give a shit about yours,” I joke, my stomach now in need of food.

“Dude. You could hardly stand let alone get anything up. Such a fucking lightweight.”

“Rather that than end up dead, which is what I pretty much feel like right now. How the hell do you do it?” I pause. “More importantly. Why?”