Page 6 of Forgotten Pieces

He grabs the back of his neck, shaking his head. “As long as you never call me that name here again.”

I stick my hand out to shake his. “You got yourself a deal.”

“I ain’t sure I would call it that.”

I grin at him. “Now how about some more shots.”

Chapter Three

Tacoma

I roll over and hit a body. My eyes fly open thinking I broke the cardinal rule again.Twice in one week. I need a therapist.

A rat’s nest of blonde hair is in my face and I settle back with a sigh of relief. Too many summer nights in high school I awoke in the same position. I sit up and grab my head, groaning from the headache that smashes against my skull.

“If you are the first one awake, you better be makin’ us breakfast,” Laney mumbles into the pillow next to me. “And there better be goddamn mimosas.”

I rub my eyes and try to gather my bearings. I haven’t felt this hungover in almost a year. “What the hell did we drink last night?”

Laney flips over, eyeliner smeared across her eyes. “What didn’t we drink?”

“Well, that explains the damn headache,” I say matter-of-factly.

“I don’t know why I hang out with you.”

I shoot her a glare. “You know exactly why.”

“The urge to vomit and the thundering in my head seems to have made me forget.”

I laugh at her and push her shoulder. “Because your boring schoolteacher ways need to be jolted with excitement every now and then.”

She moans as she stretches out on her stomach, her hand reaching for a pillow. “I’m beginning to think we both lost our minds. Not just you.”

I watch as she covers her face with a pillow. I glance around the room and notice this is not her room. I look around for clues as I clamber out of the bed. The sheets are dark, minimal furniture, no artwork. Definitely a man’s house.

There is a soft knock on the door. I walk over to it not caring I am wearing my underwear and a t-shirt that isn’t mine. A quick glance around the room and I don’t see my pants or my bra.

I open the door to a familiar face. Tan skin, deep brown hair so dark it looks black, and blinding blue eyes.

“How the hell did we end up at your house, Mac?” I say to my old friend and Laney’s overzealous love interest.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You don’t remember?”

“I would say enlighten me but knowing that zombie over there in the bed, I am sure you showed up at Sawyer’s and one glance at you and she was a smitten kitten waiting to rip her clothes off for you.”

He whispers softly, “Bingo. Too bad she passed out on the way here and I had to carry her in.”

“You didn’t want to bring her to your room?”

This time he laughs out loud and then glances over at Laney. “Sorry, don’t wanna wake her. But no.I would have but she told me I was a ‘big, fat meanie and I didn’t have the privilege of seeing her hoo-hah.’”

I smile at him. “Some choice words for a drunk.”

“Tell me about it. Plus, once I put her down, she made it two steps to the bedroom and then threw up all over you.”

I gag as I look down at myself scanning for remnants of puke.

“That’s why I am here. Bearing gifts.” He leans down and picks up a laundry basket off the floor. “Freshly laundered clothes.”

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