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“Come on. Don’t be a pussy.” Greg was determined, that was clear. “It’ll be good for the guys to get together and let loose.”
“At the motel rooms? I’m sorry, but you gonna cram everyone in a room?”
“Hell no. I ain’t being stuffed in a small room like a sardine with a bunch of men.”
Rory chuckled. “I don’t know, Greg. Sleeping on my day off sounds about right.”
“You can sleep all you want tomorrow. Just come and party. I’ll know for sure where it’s at when the shift ends.”
Rory thought about it as he continued to work, and although he should have said no, these men were away from their loved ones as well and obviously wanted to let loose and forget about that shit for at least a few hours. The more Rory thought about it, the more it sounded like a better idea.
“All right.”
Greg slapped him on the back, his grin wide. “Thatta boy.”
Rory chuckled again but got back to work. The sooner this day was over, the sooner he could chill for a while before crashing for the next twelve hours.
Rory hadn’t meant to drink so much, but after work and when he’d gotten cleaned up and ate, he’d headed to the house of one of the local guys that was working on the job with them. The living room was packed with a lot of the guys from the jobsite, but there were also a lot of women, ones who were wearing “fuck me” clothes, hanging off the guys’ arms, and screaming, “I’m easy and ready.”
He was drunk, and right now crawling into bed at that rat motel sounded like heaven. But he also couldn’t deny that it felt good not to worry about anything right now except what was the next drink he’d have.
He’d been working his ass off at the jobsite, and he missed the hell out of Lena.
He pushed past people and headed into the kitchen. He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and tossed his empty bottle into the trash.
“Hey there.” One of the girls came up, her blond hair clearly not natural because of the black roots, and her tight as fuck shirt barely covering her chest. She was also wearing these pants that looked like they should be worn under another piece of clothing, or maybe something she’d wear when she went to bed. The bleached blonde leaned against the counter beside him, looked up with this smile he assumed was trying to look seductive, and moved an inch closer.
“Not interested,” he said before she could say or try anything. But clearly, she didn’t care because she turned and faced him, pressing her tits to the side of his arm, and he shrugged her off again.
His cell vibrated in his pocket, and he knew who it was before he even saw the screen. He missed Lena so fucking much and thought about her constantly, but he didn’t think talking to her right now was probably the best idea. He put his cell back in his pocket, took a swig from his beer, and felt the room spin. He’d had a few shots, several beers, and was already trashed. He should stop right now and either hitch a ride with someone who was heading out or just call a cab.
He moved away from the blonde with the big tits, headed up the stairs to the bathroom, but when he tried the knob and heard the moans coming from inside, he walked over and leaned against the hallway. There was a room right across from him with the door open, the light off, and currently free of people fucking.
He could sit on the edge and wait until they got done screwing in the bathroom, and then once they were done, and he’d taken his piss, he’d leave. He wanted to go back to the motel and call Lena, hear her voice, because she always made shit seem better. He was in a strange state, around people he’d only known for a few months, and it was real damn lonely.
He made his way into the bedroom, stumbling and having to reach out and hold the wall to steady himself. He felt like he was getting drunker by the second. Damn, he couldn’t even hold his alcohol anymore, but maybe that was a good thing. After he was sitting on the bed, he got his phone out and started texting Lena.
He’d let her know it was too noisy right now, but he’d call her when he got back to his room. He just didn’t want to talk to her all fucked up like this because it did shame him in a way.
Rory stopped texting for a second and scrubbed a hand over his face. He needed to focus, suck down major amounts of water, or maybe throw up and get some of this alcohol out of his system. Opening his eyes and focusing on the cell again, he finished his text.
