Bits and pieces of the previous night littered his thoughts, but were largely overshadowed by the yawning void of memory.
On his bedside table, there was a massive tumbler of water, a bottle of painkillers, and his heat suppressants. Grayson was pretty sure he could recall Jenna setting them there right before he passed out. He owed her a massive coffee with extra whipped cream.
How did she even get me home… God I was such a wreck.
Grayson sipped at the water, wincing as it hit his hollow stomach. He needed to eat something. With no small amount of effort, Grayson hauled himself out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen. He set his water on the island and went digging through the fridge. After a few moments, he emerged triumphant—leftover fried rice.
The whir of the microwave was only minimally grating on the pain in his head. Grayson reached for the water then paused. There was a note written on his memo pad.
Grayson,
I’ve never experienced a hangover, but I’ve heard enough to know you probably feel like shit and don’t remember much. You were pretty out of it. Jenna force-fed you some water, but I doubt water can beat out ten (?) glasses of wine. Have more water once you’re up and try not to die.
–Keld
P.S. If you wanted to spend the night in my arms, you could have just said so. Getting drunk was a little excessive ;)
Grayson’s face burned with utter humiliation. More of his memories were coming back now—him, cradled in Keld’s arms. Lying in the back seat of a car that smelled like a rainforest floor. Keld tucking him into bed—
Oh. My. God.
Grayson buried his face in his hands. He was never going to live this down. Not only did he get completely blackout drunk in front of all his friends, but he had also done it in front of the Alpha who’d taken him on a horrible date before proceeding to kiss him senseless in an alleyway. Then, that same Alpha somehow convinced Grayson’s friends to let him drive them home, beforecarryingGrayson up to his bed.
At least he knew Jenna had stayed with him and not left him alone with Keld. Maybe he owed her more than just a coffee. A custom cake, that might be enough. One that said, “Sorry I got shitfaced.”
The microwave beeped, and the scent of fried rice sparked a fresh wave of nausea. Grayson groaned, but forced himself to take a few bites. Miraculously, his phone was still in his pocket. A message buzzed against his thigh.
Jenna Uehara:You alive?
Grayson Miller:Barely
Jenna Uehara:Food and water, now.
Grayson Miller:I am, I am. Hey, thanks for getting me home…
Jenna Uehara:No problem, babe. You can do it for me next time <3
Grayson Miller:If you’re as dumb as me and drink like two bottles of prosecco, sure.
Jenna Uehara:Lol. Let me know when you feel good enough for me to come over. I have to fill you in on last night.
Grayson grimaced.
Grayson Miller:Do I even want to know?
Jenna Uehara:It’s not that bad, and it’s not even all about you. Chill
Grayson Miller:Give me like an hour
The rap of impatient knuckles on his door arrived precisely fifty-nine minutes later. The headache had subsided somewhat, with the help of medication, but he still felt like at least some of his blood had been replaced with battery acid.
“Hey, Jenna,” he said, swinging the door wide.
“You look awful.”
“Thanks.”
Jenna kicked her shoes off and launched herself at the sofa. “I was going to tell you, the color scheme in here is great. Very ocean-y.”
