Page 16 of Fish Out of Water

Robbie.

Last night.

Jake lifted the blankets. He was fully dressed, and his clothes reeked of smoke and alcohol, just like the bar he’d been at. He closed his eyes again, sinking back into bed with a pitiful groan.

Everything hurt, from his head to his teeth to his stomach to his feet. He couldn’t move. He had to, but he couldn’t.

With the most effort he’d ever put forth, Jake stumbled out of his room and into the bathroom. It was mercifully empty,and he turned the shower on before he’d gotten a single piece of clothing off, stepping in while he was still in his T-shirt and underwear. It was too difficult to get undressed all the way. Every time he lifted his arms above his head, he felt like his body was going to collapse in on itself.

Warm water cascaded down his head and shoulders, soaking through his T-shirt. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of the steamy air to clear his lungs. How he’d made it out of that bar last night, he had no idea.

Robbie.

Brief, patchy memories once again came flooding back. Robbie had helped him home, of course, and Robbie had tucked him into bed. Robbie had saved him from getting pummeled by a guy twice his size in the bar and prevented him from getting carted away by the cops to sober up in a holding cell.

“Damn that Robbie,” he muttered, sputtering as water entered his numb mouth.

And then he remembered the kiss on the front steps. Everything after that was a blur, save for what he could put together out of sheer assumption. Had they…

He turned the shower off and stepped out, dripping water across the floor. His shirt and underwear clung to his skin, making him shiver as the water cooled. He dried off as best he could with a towel before slinking back to his bedroom. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and squinted while he struggled to turn the brightness down.

He had only one way of contacting Robbie, but he needed to know right now. Something as crucial as this couldn’t wait. He opened MatchdUp, selected the chat button, and pulled up their brief conversation from earlier in the week. His clumsy thumbs typed out the only message he could manage.

Did we fuck?

It didn’t take long for Robbie to respond.

No.

Jake let out a long, slow exhale. “Oh, thank Christ.”

Another message popped up.

Call me. We need to talk.

Jake’s heart thumped like a bass drum. With shaking hands, he copied the number Robbie had just sent him and dialed it, lifting his phone to his ear. It rang once, and then Robbie answered.

“Did you just wake up?”

Jake rubbed his forehead tenderly. “Yeah.”

“How’s that eye? Black, I’m assuming.”

“I haven’t even looked at it yet, but it feels pretty bruised. Why did you want me to call you?”

“To remind you that you need to get your ass down to the police station, since you clearly can’t keep your life in order on your own. I got you a night at home, but you’re not off the hook yet.”

Jake sat down on the edge of the bed. “I just can’t understand who called them,” he said. “We had it under control.”

“No,Nickhad it under control. You were only making it worse. But it was probably one of the patrons who was afraid you were going to turn the whole bar into a crime scene. People get scared, Jake. You can hardly blame them for that.”

Jake combed his fingers through his wet hair. “I’m not going to jail, am I?”

Robbie snorted. “I doubt it. You’ll probably get hit with some community service hours, which honestly might be for the best. You’re never getting let into The Cove again though, I can tell you that much.”

“It’s not worth it anyway. That place is a dump. Their vodka was shit.”

“It must not have been too bad for you to drink so much of it.”