Page 51 of Love It or List It
But he only got a few seconds to bask, because Austin took a deep breath, regained his faculties, and complained, “You’re heavy.”
“Yeah, well, you’re filthy,” Joe shot back, but he wrangled himself up and off to the side almost without falling over.The red wine reminded him it existed at the last moment, and he lost his balance and went face-first into the pillows.“Go bring me a washcloth.”
Austin wrinkled his nose.“Why do I have to get it?I’m the one who’s going to drip everywhere.”
“Top handles cleanup.Them’s the rules.”
“I feel like these rules should’ve been negotiated along with the coin toss,” Austin grumbled, but he got up.A few seconds later, Joe heard the water in the bathroom come on.
When he returned, he threw a washcloth at Joe’s head, and Joe caught it without looking—pure luck.
Austin didn’t get back into bed, so when Joe finished with the cloth, he looked up.
Austin had put his boxers back on, and he was standing awkwardly in the doorway.His hair was a whole disaster.Joe could’ve spent the whole night running his hands through it, the way it looked.He was pissed he hadn’t, and equally pissed he was going to pass out now before he had a chance to.
Joe blinked at him.“What are you doing?Get back in bed before you freeze to death, Jesus.Or, shit, do you think we have to let Pepa out first?”
“I’ll get her,” Austin said.“Yeah… be right back.”
The wine and the orgasm combined with the busy day and conspired to drag Joe’s eyelids down.Somewhere in the house, a door opened and closed.
The pillow swallowed Joe up.
Some time later, the mattress dipped once, deeply.Then three more dips, just in the covers this time, as the cats rejoined them.One of them walked unsteadily up the mattress until it was curled up by Joe’s head.Walker, he assumed.
“Night,” Austin said.
Joe didn’t answer, already mostly asleep.
Chapter Eleven
AUSTIN WASa foster kid.He had a misspent enough youth.Hell, he still liked to go out and tie one on now and then; the only way to tolerate the club scene was with copious amounts of alcohol.The point was, Austin knew hangovers.
So it wasreally annoyingto wake up after a night of only moderate drinking feeling like deep-fried ass.
“Kill me,” he said into the pillow, long before he had the courage to open his eyes.
Beside him, Joe said in the same tone, “Your dick is too pretty to die.”
Austin was wide-awake, the influx of adrenaline momentarily sidelining the sick throbbing in his head.
It didn’t last, though.Like, it was great that they weren’t going to have to pretend last night never happened, but that didn’t stop Austin from wanting to crawl into the bathtub and disintegrate.“I didn’t drink enough to deserve this,” he whined.“What the fuck.”
Joe grunted and shoved the covers down.ThankGod; Austin was roasting to death.“Red wine,” he said.
“You knew this was going to happen and youstill drank it?”
Joe slapped a hand over Austin’s mouth, which, fair.“Shhhhh.”
Austin would’ve licked it, but his mouth already felt drier than a geriatric nun in the Sahara.He rolled over instead and regretted it when his stomach stayed put.It took him a moment to recover without vomiting.“Do we have Advil?”
For a moment Joe lay there without speaking, and Austin was afraid the answer was no.
Then he said, “In my truck, I think.”Which—right.Austin had some in the trailer too.
That was a good start.Things were looking up.Then Austin’s hungover brain had a moment of divine inspiration.“How much do you think we have to pay your fruits to bring us McDonald’s breakfast and Gatorade?”
Joe made a garbled noise and started flailing for his phone.“Fuck, you’re a genius.”
