Page 58 of Shame

I shove my phone into my purse and take Javi’s hand.

25

Grace

I textLuke the next morning and he doesn’t reply, so I go downstairs.

He answers the door, eventually, looking hungover in the worst way. He's barely got a grasp on a glass of water. He doesn’t say anything, just steps back, letting me in, and my heart sinks.

How do I explain what I’m thinking? How I feel? I grab the glass from his and take a desperate gulp—

"That's not water," Luke says as I gasp and choke against the unexpected burning tingle.

"What the fuck are you drinking?"

"Tequila."

I blink at him through watery eyes. "At nine in the morning?"

"I didn't realize it had gotten that late."

I look at him again, more carefully this time.

He's not hungover. He's drunk. There’s no way I can try to have a calm, rational conversation with someone who is blitzed out of his mind. "Why didn't you say something?"

Shrugging, he sways to the couch. “Hardly seemed like there was time before you just stole my drink.”

“You can’t drink a water glass full of tequila at nine in the morning. Or any time.” I set the glass down in his kitchenette and join him on the couch.

He gives me a sad look. “You were on dates.”

I take a deep breath. “Which you told me to go on.”

“And I meant that. But it was hard to picture.”

“Welcome to my world.”

“Yeah.” He closes his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have told you I was going on them.”

Another shrug. “I deserve it.”

“I’m done with all of that.”

He freezes. Then, slowly, he blinks his eyes open and looks at me. “Why?”

“Because I know what I want now.”

“I’m too drunk for this conversation, aren’t I?”

“Probably.” I shift closer. “Or maybe you’re just drunk enough to tell me the truth about the Daddy thing.”

He groans. “Oh, fuck.”

“Did you ever do the Daddy/baby girl—”

“Never.” He says it fast and sure, like the question sobered him up.

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