Page 17 of Sebastian

This room will require a significant cleanup after the party, but thankfully, my leather chairs are still intact. Paolo has donned his jacket and blinks against the intrusion of the bright lights, sighing in relief when he sees me.

“I’m sorry, man. I told Taylor not to get you.” Paolo’s squatting next to Gio and holding a bunch of napkins for him to wipe his face. The guilty look on his strained face speaks to that too. “I was trying to handle it and not have you miss your party.”

Giovanni sprawls across the floor, a leg resting on the plush leather recliner as if he fell off it and stayed where he landed. His face is flush, and sweat glistens on his pale forehead. His eyes are half-closed, and his body heaves with every wrenching cough and involuntary shiver. A foul odor lingers above him.

“It’s fine.”

Gio’s eyes barely register my presence as Paolo stands to give me room to take over. Paolo must have pulled off Gio’s silk tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt to help cool him off. His tuxedo is splattered with the remnants of vomit and reeks of alcohol.

“Come on, Gio, let’s get you up.”

Giovanni’s eyes flutter open at my words, and he looks up at me with a lopsided, woozy smile.

“Sebby,” he mumbles, his words slurred. “I love you, man.”

I sigh, my frustration dissipating into concern as I help him sit up.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too, Gio. Now, sit up.”

Paolo lingers to my left, grabbing under one of his arms to help me. Taylor was right about him being deadweight. It’s a struggle for me, even with my weight closer to Gio’s. I yank at his limp body, and he manages to muster up a drunken grin.But before he can say anything, a loud belch escapes, and then he’s puking into the bucket that Paolo hurriedly slides under his chin.

“Damn, that fucking stinks,” I grumble to Paolo, who’s crouched down to wipe Gio’s forehead and gently shift his face away from the bucket before setting it on the floor.

This situation gives me a glimpse of what Jiles endures with me sometimes, even though I can handle my liquor better. Gio’s strict training diet doesn’t leave much room for alcohol, so he’s a real lightweight with this stuff.

“Why’d he drink so much, especially when prepping for his show?”

Gio slumps against Paolo, and I hoist him up, trying to get him to sit somewhat upright with his head lolling back onto the couch cushion.

“Something about a girl,” Paolo answers before grabbing more napkins to wipe Gio’s face and mouth.

Ah, yes. Giovanni’s been interested in this girl at the gym. They flirted, worked out together, and sometimes grabbed a smoothie afterward, all things he thought brought them closer to going out on a date until she slid that ring on her finger. A recent engagement threw him for a loop, and I guess he decided to drown his sorrows at my party. Lucky fucking me.

“She was the one,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with his fists like a crying kid.

“Yeah, Gio, they all are ‘the one’ for you,” I say sarcastically as he wears his feelings on his sleeve, something I can’t understand as I would never be that vulnerable with a chick. Although Chloe got close tonight, we were sharing secret for secret, and that’s not the same.

“Can you stand? We’ve got to get you cleaned up.”

Paolo quickly throws the napkins into the vomit bucket and catches him under the arm as I do the same. Giovanni strugglesto his feet, his legs wobbling beneath him. He can barely stand, let alone walk. It’s a good thing we work out together regularly, or I wouldn’t be strong enough to support his weight and drag his ass into the nearby guest bedroom to clean him up. After several stops and restarts, we get him into the bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed. He sways unsteadily, his face flush and his eyes hazy.

“Seb, go back to your party. I can take care of him here,” Paolo offers, and I look from him to Gio. “Seriously, you’ve put in too much work not to enjoy this.”

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t hesitate, especially with Chloe saying yes to sex tonight. But even if I did return to her, there’s no way I could fuck her while Gio’s in here alone. The dude could choke on his vomit or die from alcohol poisoning—all things that terrify me. Even though Paolo’s my oldest and best friend, Gio is the first friend I made in the States, and we go way back. I can’t leave my boy sick and return to get laid. That itself is fucked up.

“Nah, Paolo. I got him.”

Gio slumps forward against my body while I stand beside the bed.

“I don’t mind. Taylor and I can keep an eye on him. You and Chloe?—”

I raise my hand to cut him off. “I appreciate it but go, have a great time with your girl, and please ensure Chloe knows I’m not ditching her. Just taking care of my friend here.”

“I love you, Sebby,” Gio blurts out, causing both of us to smile and easing the tension a bit.

“I know, Gio.”

Paolo is hesitant, his eyes roaming between us as I pat Gio on the back.

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