Page 49 of The Barkeep and the Bro

And then I listened. His voice cracked with a ferocious exhale as he pumped himself dry. It was music to my fucking ears. Holy hell. I would play that sound on repeat until I died.

Not to leave him hanging, I grunted and groaned loudly as I came all over my furry stomach.

We both caught our breaths. Neither of us spoke. Reality slowly seeped onto the line. I took a good look at myself: pants down, dick spent while on the phone with my employee.

“Enjoy your night, fratboy.”

16

CHARLIE

Iawoke to the sounds of someone throwing up. Bright sunlight streamed through the window of Skeeter’s apartment. My feet hung over the arm of his couch, and a small blanket was draped over my fully clothed self. A string of saliva dribbled onto the throw pillows that supported my aching head.

The couch had no back pillows. I lurched up and found Asa sprawled on the floor, using them as a mattress.

The hangover was real. My body ached something fierce, but then I thought back to all the fun times last night.

Allof them.

I sat up straight, which sent a pounding into my head. Last night…

Did I…with my boss…

Maybe it was a dream.Oh, please, Lord, let it be a dream.

“What the fuck?” Skeeter yelled from the bathroom. “Who jizzed on my shower curtain?”

Shit.

* * *

A little while later,after staying quiet and letting one of the other party guests get blamed for Jizzgate, Skeeter, Asa, and I threw on some clothes and headed to the corner diner for a carb-filled breakfast to soak up the booze.

The diner had the comforting smells of coffee, grease, and eggs that made my stomach do flips like an eager puppy. I hadn’t been out to breakfast in weeks. I made oatmeal at Amos’s condo to save money.

Skeeter ordered a round of coffee before we even sat down. Like all New York diners, the place was packed with a steady stream of customers. My eyes caught the shelf of liquor behind the counter—diners had bars? A wave of nausea hit me. I hadn’t drank that much in a long time, and my body was adjusting.

Asa chugged his water, his body crying out for hydration.

“Birthday boyyyyy.” I drummed my fists over Asa’s back.

“Dude, last night was crazy,” Asa said. Fortunately, the waitress swooped in to refill all of our waters and coffees.

“Epic.” I let the caffeine fairy save me. Diner coffee had its own distinct taste.

“I can’t believe I’m twenty-seven. If I were a rock star, this would be the year I die.” Asa referred to the eerie coincidence of famous musicians dying in their twenty-seventh year. Cobain, Winehouse, Hendrix.

“Fortunately, you’re a boring med student and not a rock star.”

“I play a mean air guitar.”

“You suck at air guitar, too,” Skeeter said.

We all looked wrecked but in a good way. It reminded me of lazy Saturdays and Sundays around the frat house.

“I’m so hungry. I want to get rolled in a cocoon of pancakes and have to eat my way out.” I looked forward to crashing once I got home this afternoon. Hell, I’d probably take a nap on the train.

A weird lull hit our table. Usually, I could find something to talk about, especially with my friends, but my brain couldn’t come up with any suitable topics. Discussing thephone sexI had with my boss was off the table.

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