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Chapter Six
Cole
My head throbs, and my eyes burn. I glance at the clock. Noon. Only five hours to go...
I'll be dead before then.
The cool water drips off my face and into the sink as I splash more, hoping it'll make me feel better.
Nope. Still feel like death warmed over.
Last night replays over and over in my head. I've tried to stop it. But it just keeps going and going.
“Yes, yes, yes. Deeper, fuck yes!”
Her body on top of me.
Below me.
In front of me.
You name it, we did it.
But here's the thing.
I want to forget about it.
I want to burn it from my brain and erase it completely so that I never remember it again.
It sounds cruel, I know. It's not her.
No, she is amazing and delicious and … perfect.
It's me.
I'm fucked up. And I'll only fuck her up just like I always do.
So why can't she leave my throbbing head?
“Cole? You okay in there?”
Brock's voice startles me. “Yeah, I'll be out in a minute.” I wipe my face dry and chug down a couple of more ibuprofen with water from my bottle.
“All right, man. Just wanted to let you know someone was upstairs looking for you.”
I freeze.
Please tell me it's not Addi from last night.
Or please tell me it is her.
Fuck, I don't know.
I open the door to find Brock still standing there, his head turned slightly to the side as he studies me. Dude has only known me for five years, yet he reads me almost as good as Gramps. Almost.
“You're hungover as fuck right now.” Brock claps his hands and laughs.
I pull away from the loud sound, the noise splitting my head in two. “Shh, man. Why you gotta talk so loud?”
