Callen was trying not to check him out or think about what he wished happened.
Instead, he focused on the previous night.
“I was drinking and…”
Yep.
Ethan knew when Callen finally figured it out. What gave it away was the look of absolute horror on his face.
“Kaya Cheek showed up.”
And there it was.
“Oh, did she ever, genius. You did it up good this time, drunk and disorderly.”
Callen wanted to puke again.
“Oh, holy shit,” he muttered. “What did I do?” he asked. “What the fuck did I do?”
Ethan was to the point.
“Kaya Cheek. Again. Your dick was wet, and she was not wearing panties. Put two and two together, Callen James Whitefox.”
Callen felt nauseous.
In fact, he couldn’t keep the bile down. Knowing he let that skank ride him…
Yeah, he puked in the nearby toilet.
Oh, and it was violent.
To Ethan, this proved his brother was still hungover. He’d gotten him to puke up some of the booze, but Callen had ingested a great deal of Jack.
When he was done vomiting, Ethan handed him a hotel glass with water in it.
Then, he crouched down.
“I showed up to talk to you, and found you so drunk you could have died. She got you to drink an entire bottle of Jack, my dude. She got you so liquored up that she was going to get you to cum in her. What’s the first rule of survival on the rez as a Blackhawk, Callen James?” he asked.
He closed his eyes.
“Don’t let Kaya Cheek get knocked up.”
Yeah, that was it.
Too bad he didn’t remember that when wearing three-inch-thick beer goggles.
“Well, I got there just in time, and I tossed that skank out. Like I said, your dick was wet, so you’d better hope and pray it was from her mouth, and not that bear trap of a vag.”
Callen struggled to remember.
Oh, and it took a toll on him. His brain was screaming from dehydration and being forced to work.
Finally, he could remember most of it.
“It was head. She didn’t get on yet. I can remember some of it. Did we take a shower together?” he asked.
Ethan laughed.
