“We’re all twenty-one and you’re going to keep the drinks flowing until we can’t stand,” I push the roll of cash into his hand and sit back with an eyebrow raised, the ball firmly in his court. After a stunned beat, he swallows thickly and pushes the money into his pocket, quickly retrieving us a tray full of shots. Hands clasp my back before we clink our tiny glasses together and throw them back, reaching for the next without pausing. The taste of oblivion skates over my tongue, leading a path through my body which I encourage to spread until it devours me.
“Hey, that’s you! You’re Wyatt Hughes!” Freckle Features shouts into my ear, drawing my attention to a small flatscreen above the bar. A female reporter is relaying a story I can’t hear with exaggerated hand gestures, the headline ‘Where is Nixon Hughes?’ scrolling across the bottom. In the top corner of the screen, my god-awful mugshot is on display for everyone to see. A cut on my temple is pissing blood down my face and onto my shirt, my blackened eyes barely recognisable but the sign I’m holding with my own name splayed in white lettering is undeniable. Shoving my two fingers into my mouth, I whistle sharply over to the bartender. His eyes swing to me instantly, abandoning his punter to rush over and switch off the TV at my instruction. I’ve only just forgotten about the shitshow that is my life, I’m not nearly drunk enough to deal with reality right now.
Several bottles of tequila and a fall off my stool later, I’m hoisted up and swaying in my companion’s arms. Fuck, I’ve missed this. Having people to lean on, emotionally and physically, and not being alone all the damn time. I’ve spilled every miserable secret and damaged thought to these five strangers, and the best part is they haven’t heard a word of it. Just nodded along and sensed when to hug me, which is exactly what I needed. Bull ring has his arm slumped around my shoulders as he drags me into the throng of people on the dancefloor, his central nose piercing glinting in the strobe lights.
An ass grinds up against my crotch in an instant, a blonde smirking over her shoulder at me. I remain still for a little while, praying her snaking hips and roaming hands can stir a response out of me but I already knew it was useless. She’s extremely pretty, slim yet busty and squeezed into a tiny pink dress, but everything about her is all wrong. Gripping her by the waist, I plant her in front of Elf Ears and shove my way to the door. With a glance back, I notice five sets of concerned eyes focused on me, my new friends staring longingly but I give them a simple salute goodbye, not wanting to be followed. My skin feels too tight and the room is beginning to spin, a rise of vomit threatening to explode from me if I don’t flee the overcrowded space.
Spilling onto the street, I lean over with my hands on my knees and gulp in the crisp air. Why did I think this would be a good idea? A pair of shiny loafers become visible beneath my face, a glance up showing me the full length of my limo driver. Stalker much? But I can’t deny that I’m done for the night and thankful to have a quick escape. Concentrating on following his exact footsteps, I misjudge my step into the limo and fly across the back seat in a slumped mess. My eyes flutter closed, consciousness drifting in and out as a pool of drilling collects beneath my cheek. Streetlamps blur past my closed eyelids, the door opening by my feet jolting me upright.
I stagger back to my room, my eyes unable to focus. I almost fall down the stairs, my hands slapping against the stone wall to stop myself. Pressing my back against it instead, I slide further down into the darkness below. This is fine, I’ll just sleep it off on my comfortable memory foam mattress. Back to normal tomorrow. I fumble in my pocket, withdrawing my bedroom key and twisting it in the shiny padlock. The clang of the chain hitting the floor makes me wince, my head throbbing as I bend to pick it up. Stumbling inside, I praise myself for remembering to hook the chain back onto the wall before flopping onto my bed.
My face connects with a hard floor and pain flares to life in my body. Fucking ow. I’ll have to tell Rachel my bed is broken when I wake up. I’m rolled onto my back, the hands of an angel gripping my pulsating cheek. Her face is hidden in shadow but there is an orange glow around her head, her halo firmly in place. “Hey you,” I grin stupidly, heat seeping into my chilled flesh. This is what the girl in the club couldn’t give me, this feels right. I lean into the gentle touch, reaching out to drag the angel down onto my body. Mmmmm, she smells all soapy. I wrap my arms around her tightly, never wanting to let go because she’ll have to go to heaven soon. But she can’t leave yet, I need her.
Her arms wind around my neck, her hug reaching a place in my heart I’m too embarrassed for her to know about. It’s not pure enough, not worthy of her. Sleep tries to drag me under, but I refuse, something telling me I need to savour this moment for as long as possible. Shifting onto my side, I pull her with me so I can memorize her face. Those thick eyelashes over icy blue eyes, that cute button nose and full lips. Enticingly soft lips that are every man’s desire. But no one else can
