Page 12 of The Wounded Warrior

“Jesus.” Lori bundled him back into the truck and handed him a Brookshires bag in case he needed it.

“Thank you. This sucks.”

“It does. Are you sure it was the beer? What did you eat?”

“Nothing. I ate whatever you brought for lunch.”

“Oh, man. Skunked beer on an empty stomach.” Lori drove him home and his brain began to slow down finally, the spinning easing.

“Yeah. Yeah.” He felt better, though, less like death walking.

“Here we are. Inside, boss. You need water.”

“Yeah. Yeah. God, this sucks. I’m so thirsty.” He felt as if he was in Hell all of a sudden—he was so hot, dry as a bone.

Lori dragged him inside before easing him down on the couch.

He didn’t fight it. God, he felt like hammered shit. He let her ease off his shoes and get him a bottle of water with a straw. “My phone says I should get you medical attention. Bad alcohol can poison your kidneys and all.”

“Let me rest, honey. Please.”

“Okay, okay. You sleep it off.” He heard her moving around, heading to the kitchen.

“Good girl.” Thank God. Rory wrapped his arms around his middle and closed his eyes, one foot on the floor, copying an old drunk trick from college. Kept things from spinning any more than they had to, though that sensation was way better.

He took one deep breath after another. He could do this. He could. Food poisoning. How did beer go that wrong? Mold?

Oh, God. No thinking of mold.

No mold. Black mold got in people’s brains and they disintegrated from the inside out. Ugh.

The last thing he needed was to have melty brains. He moaned and scrubbed his hand over his eyes.Okay, sleep it off, asshole.

Lori wandered around the kitchen—fixing herself something to eat, he was sure. He hated that she was missing the party. She loved them.

“You should head back. I won’t tell.”

“You’re supposed to be asleep.”

“I’m just concentrating on not dying. Someone has to give them my check.”

“Yeah. I left it there. You made a bit of a spectacle ofyourself with the little hottie in the wheelchair. Is he straight? Tell me he’s straight.”

“I imagine he’s straight. Rumor is that his brother’s a little bent in the middle, but incredibly careful not to advertise.” Wasn’t it supposed to be a seventy percent chance if one twin was gay, then the other would be? The odds were in his favor.

Well, the gay odds were. The attraction not so much, after he’d made an ass of himself. “I need to—Gotta apologize…” Rory couldn’t hold a thought with both hands.

“Later. When you’re not dying.” Lori’s hands were cool, comforting.

“Okay. Thas goo.”

“Uh-huh. Go, coherence boy, go.”

Go. Yeah. That was it. He could just go.

Right to sleep.

Chapter Seven

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