Page 110 of These Pucking Boys

I refill my glass and drink it in one gulp before I refill it again. I never drink this much during the week, but I’m making an exception tonight.

CHAPTER 46

JUNE

Iwake up to the sound of loud knocking. I’m groggy—either from sleep, or I’m still drunk. My head is pounding, and it feels like I swallowed a desert. Winston barks, which only makes my headache worse. I left my phone in the kitchen, so I have no idea what time it is, but my body is telling me it’s the middle of the night.

I get out of bed in a rush and stride to the living room. I’m going to kill whoever is at my door. In hindsight, whoever is knocking at this hour must either be having an emergency or have bad intentions. None of those thoughts are clear in my throbbing, cotton-candy-filled brain.

“Peaches.... let me in, please,” Ryan says in a ragged voice, making my heart lurch.

Jesus. Why didn’t I think it could be him? Blame the alcohol and lack of sleep.

I open the door and find Ryan leaning against the frame. He’s wearing slacks and a button-down shirt, which means he went out. He canceled on me last minute to go somewhere, and that makes me beyond angry. Maybe I’d have controlled my emotions better if I wasn’t so damn irritated already for getting woken up in the middle of the night.

“Where have you been?”

“To a bar... or a few. I don’t remember.”

“And you drove?” My voice rises in pitch, making him wince.

“I’m a very good driver.” He leans forward. “Are you going to let me in?”

“I’m not sure yet. Why are you here?”

His lips curl into a crooked smile. “Because I missed you.”

I know I shouldn’t take the words of a drunk seriously, but my heart melts a little. Winston tries to escape, so I need to either let Ryan in or shut the door in his face. I bend over to grab Winston’s collar so he won’t take off, and open the door wider.

“You can come in for a little bit.”

“Aww, only a little bit?” He shuts the door, then wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. “Didn’t you hear me when I said I missed you?”

I smell whiskey on his breath. It’s not unpleasant, but I’m still annoyed and hurt over what he did, so I push him off me.

“I heard you, but I’m not super happy with you right now.”

His brows shoot up. “Why not? Oh, is it because I didn’t watch the game with you?”

I cross my arms. “No. It’s because you waited until the last minute to cancel on me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not very good with appointments.” He staggers into the living room and collapses on the couch.

What kind of lame-ass, half-baked excuse is that? I can’t even bring myself to say so, because it wouldn’t register. “What are you doing?”

“Resting.”

“Go to your apartment and your satin sheets then.”

“In a minute.” He removes his sling, then covers his face with his good arm and, not much later, starts to snore.

My mouth hangs open as I watch him sleep for a couple beats. I’m so angry, I could throw a glass of cold water on his face. But I curl my hands into fists instead and count to ten in my head. The best I can do is to go back to bed and try to get some sleep. Unlike him, I have to wake up early and go to work.

RYAN

I don’t know where I am at first, but I know I drank way too much last night. My memories are fuzzy, and my mouth tastes like something crawled inside and died. When my blurry vision adjusts, I realize I’m in Mrs. Carpenter’s apartment. I slept on her couch.

Shit. Where’s June?

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