“Looks like you guys had fun,” I say.
“Awthsome night. Woulda been betterer if you were there.”
I try not to laugh as I wrap my arm around Maddox’s slumped shoulders and pull him to my side so he stops swaying. “Awthsome and betterer? How drunk are you?”
“About ten and a half drunks.”
“That’s the right amount of drunks,” I say and drag him upstairs to the apartment.
He doesn’t make it to the bedroom. He falls onto the couch and breathes a sigh as if he’s comfortable, even though he’s half hanging off the thing.
“I’ll go get you a glass of water and some Tylenol.”
Maddox bolts upright into a sitting position. “Do I remind you of Eric?”
I freeze in my steps, halfway to the bathroom. “What?”
He waves me off. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
I stalk over to him. “No, what did you mean by that?”
“Hanging out with Julian … he said some things about his brother. Might’ve said I looked … wait, I want to get the wording right.” He speaks low in a mimicking voice. “‘You look a fuck-ton like my brother. Can anyone say Eric’s replacement?’”
Fucking Julian.
“Is this why you’re hammered right now?” I ask.
“Naaah. We were all drunk waaaaay before that. Seriously, wine coolers with cheap chasers is not a good idea. The chasers tasted like lighter fluid. I’m surprised Stacy was still standing in the end.”
“Julian becomes an ass when he’s drunk, so I’m sure he didn’t mean any of it. Or, he was so drunk, he actually thought you looked like Eric—”
“I thought it too, you know. When I first met the asshole. My initial reaction was to wonder why you wouldn’t hook up with me when I was clearly your type.” His speech is no longer slurred—this conversation sobering him right up.
I join him on the couch and push him down, my body blanketing his. “You are not Eric’s replacement in any way. You’re both blond and have blue eyes, but your similarities end there. You might’ve been an asshole to your high school girlfriend, but deep down, you’re kind”—I lean in and kiss his cheek—“thoughtful”—a kiss on his neck this time—“awesome. And nothing like Eric …” I take his mouth with mine, and yup, I totally get the lighter fluid taste in my mouth. “What the hell did you guys drink?”
“Who the fuck knows,” he mumbles.
“Want to go to bed?”
“Fair warning, I’m way too drunk to get it up.”
I burst out laughing. “I meant to sleep.”
“Mm, sounds good.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
MADDOX
I sound like an old man as I drag my ass out of the bedroom. The groans that come from my mouth could be confused with a zombie looking for its next feed.
“I’m never going out with Stacy and Julian again,” I grumble.
Damon’s laugh comes from the kitchen, but it echoes in my ear as if on loudspeaker, and I grunt.
“Coffee?” he asks.
“IV drip.”
More laughter. Ugh. As I enter the kitchen, not only is Damon’s laugh deafening, his smile is blinding.
“How is it that I’m twenty-three but pulling hangovers of a forty-year-old?”
“Maybe because you practically drank a swimming pool of alcohol? And don’t even try with that I’m never drinking again crap. We both know you will.”
I nod. Slowly. “Probably.”
“So, uh, do we need to talk about last night?” Damon’s voice is quiet, and for a quick second, I freak out about what I possibly could’ve done that needs discussing, but then it floods back to me.
“Shit. I went all insecure on you, didn’t I? I didn’t mean … I mean, I …” Fuck, I don’t know what to say. I didn’t mean to freak out on him, but I was drunk, and Julian said all that shit about me looking like Eric …
Damon’s arms wrap around me. “Now you’re sober, I want you to hear this again. You’re not Eric. You have to remember that he and I haven’t been close since high school. We were good at keeping up appearances for our families, but that was all. They can say we were inseparable up until the kissing incident all they want, but it’s not true. It hasn’t been the same between Eric and me since I came out to him. Yeah, we were still friends but not how it once was.”
“So, you won’t care if I tell you he called off his wedding?”
Damon steps back. “He what?”
I shrug. “Julian said after that awkward as fuck dinner, his brother called off his wedding, moved back to New Haven, and got a job with one of his Yale buddies. He says Eric’s running away.”
“It’s what Eric does best,” Damon says. “Look, there would’ve been a time where I cared and felt sorry for the guy, but he only ever cared about himself. I don’t want him to suffer, but I don’t want to be involved in his life anymore. In fact, if you reminded me of Eric, it’d be a turn-off because of what he put me through.”