Page 159 of Wait for Him

Someone please explain why these motherfuckers let me drink four... Five? No. Six? Did I consume six drinks tonight like I've been mystically transported back to college?

Oh, fuck.

Stomach, don't fail me now. We have been through too much together for you to betray me in public.

I must look like a wet fool right now. That makes me laugh. I'm laughing harder now. At nothing. Good talk. I hope I remember where the hotel is. At least the guys are all with me.

I think.

I turn around. There they are. That's good. That's very good.

Why are they all holding hands? Why wasn't I invited to the holding of the hands?

I should ask them. Words. Words, Marcus. Come out of your mouth.

"Why is no one holding my fucking hand?"

Hell yeah. Nailed it.

"So we don't lose each other, fucker." Derrick reaches back without breaking stride and grabs my hand, folding me into the chain. "There. You're in the convoy. Nobody gets left behind."

That's nice. He has very smooth hands. I should tell him. Words. C'mon, words.

"I like this." I nod seriously at our joined hands. "Your hand skin is smooth."

I'm killing this shit.

"Thank you for noticing, Jackson." Derrick squeezes my hand like we exchange this compliment daily. "I moisturize."

"See, that's friendship," Bennet says from the front of the chain.

It is. God, we're so fucking wasted. I can't remember the last time I got this drunk.

We make it into the hotel still linked together. The front desk people, hostesses? Hotel waitresses?

No. Fuck. Lobby people.

The lobby people are looking at us and laughing.

"Are they... are you laughing at us?" I point with the hand that's holding Derrick's, which unfortunately drags his entire arm up with mine. "It's so we don't lose us. It's practical."

The tall redheaded fucker who checked us in snickers.

Snickers. Fuck, now I want a Snickers. I also want to pummel the redhead.

Pummel. That's a weird word. Pum-mel. Punch him. Fist. Go.

Haha. No I don't. God, I love Crown Royal.

We traipse toward the elevator, all four of us concentrating very hard on each individual step down the corridor.

Don’t trip. Do not fucking trip. One step at a…

Bennet's phone buzzes in his pocket and completely fucks my concentration. My foot goes sideways and I'm tipping into Derrick before I know what happened, grabbing his face with my free hand to keep myself upright.

I pat his cheek twice.

"Sorry about that."