It seemed like he had.
Standing there in the water, he didn’t want him to feel that way. So, he finished getting cleaned up.
And he had a lot to consider.
A REAL LOT.
Because somehow, they were in worse shape today than last night.
Jesus Christ.
This was a mess.
* * * Blackhawk & Cantrell * * *
Across the Hall
Callen’s Room
Waking up, he heard water running, and Callen wasn’t quite sure where it was coming from, either. Was there a shower nearby?
Opening his eyes, Callen sat up and looked around to find he wasn’t in his own bed.
Nope.
Oh, and on top of that, he had the mother of all pounding headaches.
Holy.
Fuck.
What ran him over, and why the hell was he in a hotel room?
Oh, Jesus.
Who did he sleep with in some drunken stupor?
At the rate he fucked up, it could be literally anyone. Well, now, he had to figure out how bad this was going to be.
All he could hope was no one got hurt, and he didn’t knock someone up.
The more he tried to think about the previous night, the more his head hurt, and his belly rolled in revulsion.
What did he drink?
Gasoline?
He believed he was one fart away from blowing the building to kingdom come.
Getting out of bed, he saw his clothes on the floor, and he hadn’t been wearing those particular ones when he got home last night.
He tried to piece it together. All he could remember was going home after telling Ethan to go.
Callen tried to remember what happened, but he simply couldn’t.
Great.
He was a black-out drunk like his sperm donor. Hopefully, he’d piece it together.
