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“Damn, Grady, buy a guy a drink first,” Lake said, his voice raspy and thick. Grady knew it was from the excessive alcohol and from sleeping—and snoring because memories of snoring were coming back to him—but it sounded like he’d been thoroughly face fucked, and that made Grady’s morning wood that much more prominent.
He told it to calm the fuck down as he blinked a few times, trying to get his brain to wake up. “I did buy you a drink first,” he said, his voice a little hoarse from sleep. “Several, in fact.”
Looking over at Lake didn’t help his predicament any. Grady’s shirt had twisted up in the night somehow and was pushed up his chest, all that smooth skin just begging Grady to put his mouth on it.
“Do the ones at your place count?” Lake asked, blinking up at him. There was a line from the pillow across his cheek, his hair was sticking in a hundred different directions, and there was crusting drool at the corner of his mouth. None of that should have been attractive. Except for the part where he looked damn fucking good on Grady’s sheets, stretched out with way too much skin on display.
Grady snatched his hand away, realising that he was still touching Lake’s soft skin. “Since I paid for the bottle, I think so.” He groaned and sat up. He had a headache, but it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be, considering how much of the Shinobu Koshi-No they’d drunk. At least he didn’t feel like he wanted to throw up, although that could change when he tried to stand up. He’d been burned by that before.
He snatched up his phone and checked the time. His alarm wasn’t set to go off for another half hour, so at least he hadn’t slept in. He turned it off and dropped it back on the nightstand before turning off the alarm.
“Why do you even have an alarm set on Sunday?” Lake asked.
“I was planning to go into work today and finish some stuff.”
“A broody workaholic. You could start a new trend. I bet people would follow you just for that beard.”
“What’s wrong with my beard?” Grady asked. He frowned as he ran his fingers through it. It wasn’t too long; it was thick, but he kept it neat and tidy.
“Nothing. That’s not what I said? It’s agreatbeard, hence the following. Are you hungover?”
“No.”
Lake was apparently not so lucky, since a moment later he mumbled, “Ithink‘mgonnabesick,” and sprang from the bed, bolting out the bedroom door.
Grady rubbed his eyes before carefully standing, watching out for any lingering nausea. He needed to get some food and coffee in so he could try to function like a normal human. A human anyway. Normal was overrated.
He made his way slowly down the small hallway that led to his bedroom, his home office, and his bathroom. He was serenaded by the awful sound of Lake retching. Grady might have thought about holding his hair back, but his thick hair wasn’t long enough to get in his face. He did detour into the bathroom, though. He scratched the hair on his chest as he bypassed Lake, hunched over the toilet, and grabbed out a towel, face washer, and spare toothbrush from the cupboard.
“For when you’re ready,” he said quietly to Lake, putting the items on the side of the sink. Lake nodded, moaning miserably.
“You need some help?” Grady found himself asking. Grady rolled his eyes at himself as he stepped closer. He wasn’t the guy’s boyfriend or mother. He was a grown man, and he could handle a hangover just fine by himself.
“If you wanna throw up for me, be my guest,” Lake said huskily.
“Bodies don’t work like that. What normally works for you?”
“Uh—juice? Mango. And a big juicy fucking Quarter Pounder from Maccas. No, aDoubleQuarter Pounder.”
“Those aren’t good for you.” Grady was hard pressed to think of anything that was unhealthier than one of those burgers. Even just frying up some bacon and eggs was healthier than that shit.
“Neither is alcohol poisoning,” Lake muttered. “I already have one, so why not the other?”
“Do you feel like you have alcohol poisoning?” Grady asked. “Should I take you to the hospital?”
“No; I’m just being dramatic.”
Grady could believe that. “Feel free to take a shower. Take as long as you like; there’s plenty of hot water.”
“Thanks.”
Grady grabbed his phone off his nightstand and scrolled through to his Uber Eats app, placing an order quickly before he made his way back out into the kitchen.
The food had been delivered, and Grady was on his second coffee and halfway through a bowl of freshly chopped fruit, when Lake emerged from the shower. His face had more colour, though the queasiness was definitely still there.
He had opted to put Grady’s shirt back on… but no pants. Grady swallowed as his gaze flicked down without his permission. Lake had nice solid legs, with muscle definition that spoke of a regular exercise regime. That made sense, since the guy was a soldier. Grady was a sucker for a guy with skills, and an army pilot meantskills.Even his driving last night had been basically flawless. Enough that Grady’s back-seat driving was silent.
Lake stopped and stared at the food waiting on the bench for him, and Grady could have sworn there were tears forming in his eyes. He really hoped not, because he didn’t do well with tears. On the job, if someone burst into tears, it was an unspoken rule that Quinn dealt with them.
