“Then yeah,” I said. “Putting the books out yourself might be your best and only option.”
Chase stood up and walked over to the window. He stared out into the nighttime desert, contemplating. His hands folded behind his back.
“Independent publishing, huh?”
Even his silhouette was beautiful. Broad, tapering shoulders. A perfect, V-shaped back.
And that ass… Goddamit. That ass.
“You know a place we can start with this?” he asked, still facing away.
“Yes.”
He turned to face Burke, who nodded.
“Let’s get started, then. We’ve got a fuck-ton of work to do.”
Forty-Four
NATHAN
I woke up with Kayleen curled up behind me, spooning me in my bed. I didn’t remember going to sleep with her. Actually, I didn’t remember all that much about last night at all.
And that’s because I was drunk.
Fuck…
My room no longer spun when I kept my eyes open. That was definitely progress. But the pounding in my head… well, that was something I had to take care of right away.
Prying myself from Kayleen’s body was tough enough, all warm, and soft and sleepy. If not for the hammering I would’ve stayed there forever. Instead, I made the cold, barefoot journey down the hall and into the kitchen.
Everything was impossibly bright, ridiculously illuminated. Chase and Burke had been there a while. The coffee pot was nearly empty.
“Welcome back,” one of them said.
I fumbled around trying to get the top off a bottle of aspirin. Eventually Chase took it out of my hand and did it for me.
“You alright?”
I looked at my friend and tried for force a smile. “Peachy.”
“You don’t smell peachy.”
I grunted and sat down across from Burke, who was already on his laptop. He wasn’t writing though. He had the mouse in one hand, and was scrolling away at the wheel.
“We’re screwed, huh?” he said without looking up.
“Yeah. Definitely.”
I took my first sip of coffee and almost sighed. Sighing wouldn’t do us any good, I decided right there and then. Sighing was for pussies.
“Let’s hear it,” said Chase.
“Hear what?”
“Your father,” he said. “Your phone call. Tell us how the conversation went.”
Memories I’d made intentionally fuzzy sharpened in my mind. I could picture my father’s scowl, on the other end of the line. His lips peeling back in a snarl, as he shouted me down. Scoffing at me. Berating me, for anything and everything.