Page 59 of Give Me Perfect Love

Hungover from hell from the look of the empty liquor bottle on the floor and the fact he was already drunk before he started on it.

“Get up,” I say, lifting my foot and nudging the hand that’s hanging off.

He blinks his eyes open, wincing. I look at the wall of windows as the stabbing sun shines through. Walking over, I press a button that lets the shade roll down.

“Thanks,” he says. In yesterday’s clothes and a voice that sounds like gravel, he moves and rests his forearms on his thighs, and I know if he had a head full of hair, it’d be a perfect mess.

“So, what the hell was that last night?” I stand with my hands on my hips, feeling like he looks.

“Can you give me a minute before you start?” he asks, sounding tired and uninterested in this conversation.

I laugh once. “Before I start? So, I’m bothering you now?”

“No, you’re not bothering me. I just have a splitting headache and you’re talking loud as shit.”

“You boys are a disaster,” I say, shaking my head.

“Where’s Jace?” he asks.

“He’s out there on the couch.”

He rubs the side of his face. “I feel like I got hit by a Mack truck.” He lifts his hoodie off, and with it goes his shirt. My eyes dart down to his stomach. His muscles move and black ink stretches over his white skin. He’s beautiful even like this.

His Mad Hatter tattoo grins, showing perfect teeth and crazy eyes.

“So last night. That girl. Is that a normal thing for you?” I ask.

“Was,” he says, standing and walking over to the fridge.

“Was?” I repeat.

“Yes, K. Thatwasa normal thing for me.” He opens the fridge and grabs a beer, twisting the cap off before he tosses it into the trash. I take a seat on the bed, looking at him as though he’s a stranger.

I get things are nuts right now. His mom is in the hospital, his brother is a train wreck, but this is too much. I’m not sure I signed up for all of this. I mean, he’s easily jealous, he’s got a temper from hell, and now he’s drinking at noon. Our relationship just started, and it’s already looking bleak.

He leans back against the countertop, blue eyes gazing at me as he takes a few big gulps of the beer. Wiping his mouth, he licks his bottom lip. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m disgusting to you.”

I shake my head. “Last night was pretty disgusting, but this is just sad.”

“Sad.” He tests the word out like he’s trying to understand its meaning.

“Yes, sad.” I stand and walk over to the counter, resting my elbows on the top as I lean my cheek in my hand. He stares at me, and I wish I knew what he was thinking. “Maybe we should take a break.” It comes out without me meaning for it to, but I do mean it.

How did we end up here?

In my hometown, when I was dealing with Bethany and being back there, I felt like we were strong together. But as soon as we returned here, everything fell apart.

“Fuck that,” he says, lifting his chin. Temperamental shows no sign of giving in to this. But I feel like it’s needed. We should clear our heads here. Take a step back and deal with certain things: Mary, my relationship with Mills, his brother, the shop.

“Bryce,” I say exhaustedly. “I think we may have rushed into…”

“Rushed into what? We acted like friends for weeks before we did anything. Don’t you dare say we moved too fast. Slugs move faster.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t you think you have enough going on without throwing our messed-up relationship into the mix? I mean, you can’t worry about everyone, Bryce.”

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