“You’re out of practice,” Lenny drawls from the other side of the door.
“I feel like death.”
“You’re a fucking lightweight.”
I mumble incoherently.
“You need another shot,” Lenny says. “It’ll make you feel better.”
It’s a welcoming thought as I recall the pain and disappointment that alcohol ate away last night. I don’t allow myself to think about it or consider drinking more. Instead, I clear my head and lie my head on the bathmat.
Sleep. Sleep is going to make me feel better.
Cold water sluices over me, startling me to a sitting position.
“Oh, good. You’re up,” Grey says, Hudson and Lenny behind him. Lenny laughs, his hair looks like he stuck his finger in a light socket, and he’s still wearing yesterday’s clothes.
“I had to take a piss in the kitchen because you wouldn’t wake up.”
Disgust has me shaking my head.
Hudson’s arms are crossed over his chest; jaw set with disappointment.
“What the hell, Grey?” I accuse.
He sets the bowl he’d used to douse me on the counter. “You’re lucky it was me and not your sister. She’s looking for you, by the way.”
I rub a hand across my brow, still feeling ill and exhausted. Slowly, I brace myself on the tub and haul myself to my feet.
“Where’s your shirt?” Lenny asks. I don’t know how he’s standing.
“You look terrible,” Hudson says.
“I feel worse,” I assure him.
“Good,” is his only response. “What the fuck, man?”
“What time is it?”
“Nine,” Hudson says.
“It’s only nine?” Lenny says. “Man, we must have just gotten home.”
“It’s fucking Monday,” Hudson spits the words.
“Where in the hell have you guys been?” Grey asks.
“It’s Monday?” I ask.
Hudson scoffs.
“Shit. I have to go. I need to call Hadley.”
“Hadley’s cool. She’ll understand,” Lenny says.
Hudson’s expression of disbelief kills the tiny ember of hope Lenny passed me. “Cool or not, you two assholes disappeared for a day and a half.”
I reach into my pocket and find my phone, the battery dead. “I have to go.” I pat my pockets again, searching for my keys. “Where are my keys?”