Page 30 of Happy Hour

If possible, I think I just fell further in love with him.

After a couple minutes, I felt him smile pressing a kiss into my hair. “Why were we not doing that from the beginning?”

“You’re so weird.” Tossing my arms over my face attempting to mask my embarrassment and any chance at crying, I shook my head. “Because, we were eleven you pervert.”

He just chuckled but said nothing more.

Moments passed and the surge of adrenaline mixed with anxiety and fear overwhelmed me. Suddenly I felt sick as tears threatened again. I wouldn’t cry though, I wouldn’t let myself. If anything, I’d blame it on allergies or something just as ridiculous.

Would he regret this in the morning?Was all my brain focused on.

Moments passed where we remained, the fear embedded further with no relief.

From the morning light coming in through the cracks in the curtains, I could vaguely make out his expression.

Lying on his back, arms contently resting on his stomach, I steadied his sedated breathing. His left hand rose to run through his hair.

What really caught my attention was the intensity marking his gaze. His eyes were open staring at the ceiling, the restlessness returned, as did that vulnerability. I couldn’t stop my mind from convincing me he’d regret it. Maybe that’s why he wanted me to tell him to stop.

Once Jameson was asleep, I couldn’t take just laying there as the gnawing anxiety got the best of me. Turning over, I took in his softened features. With his unkempt rusty hair, the freckles on his nose, he reminded me so much of the boy I fell in love with amongst the methanol and clay of the Northwest.

Who was I kidding, he was stillthatboy. Jameson hadn’t changed and I knew that. And knowing that, I shouldn’t have been so worried he’d regret this because the boy I fell in love with wouldn’t. He was still my best friend above all else and sleeping together wouldn’t change that.

Or would it?

Here I go again.

The haze of intoxication was starting to lift; reality was setting in.

Feeling sick again, I decided to get some water or run away, one of the two was a good idea.

You’d think his room would have water since it had everything else but nope, just alcohol. No surprise there though.

I threw on Jameson’s shirt from last night and stepped out the door, tentatively. I glanced outside but no one seemed to be around.

Half-naked, hair all over the place, I made my way down the long hallway of the Omni Hotel and Resort in search of water.

When I rounded the corner, I ran right into Emma.

No, scratch that—I fell over Emma because for god knows what reason, she was on her knees in front of the vending machine.

“What the hell, Emma?” I grunted pealing myself from the tile floor, slipping on ice cubes that were scattered everywhere.

Emma started picking up the ice chips frantically and dropping them in a bucket. “What does it look like? I was getting ice and water.”

She looked over me once, scrutinizing my appearance and then shook her head. “Where are your clothes?”

“Where are yours?” I challenged. Emma wasn’t wearing much more than me with Aiden’s t-shirt and cowboy hat. “Nice hat.” I added.

She smiled again and looked more closely at my collarbone that was sporting a purple bite mark from Jameson. “Did you...oh god, Sway, you didn’t?”

“Shut up.” I snapped and shoved her against the vending machine. “You havenoroom to talk. Whose saddle were you just in?”

“Saddle?” Emma glared but appeared nervous. “Don’t tell Jameson about me and Aiden.”

“Don’t tell Alley about me and Jameson then.” I countered letting go of her.

“Deal,” we shook hands.

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