Are you coming down? Two could play the answer a question with a question game.
Wasn’t planning to.
Now what? Should he ask her to? Seeing her was part of the reason he wanted to stay home. Maybe by Friday she’d change her mind.
Billy pulled up to the Irish pub in Palmer Lake, the town northwest of Monument. It would be crowded and loud on a Friday night. He wanted loud. Maybe it would drown out all the stuff going on inside his head. The stuff about Renie.
Gods somewhere were really fucking with him. If there were any girl alive—any single girl who walked the face of the earth—he shouldn’t be attracted to, it would be Renie. And she was all he could think about.
He wanted to get drunk—rip roaring drunk.
Several beers, and a few shots of whiskey later, Billy was too drunk to drive home. He couldn’t think of anyone he could call to call for a ride home. His parents would be asleep by now, not that
he’d call them anyway. He was thirty-three years old, not twenty-three.
Twenty-three. Renie was twenty-three. All week that’d been happening. No matter what thought came to mind, something about her followed.
He could just sleep it off in his truck, until he sobered up. Wouldn’t be the first time.
She might as well go to bed. Whatever possessed her to drive down here in the first place? Especially since Billy wasn’t home.
Her phone chirped. Hey, said the text message.
Hey, she answered.
What r u doin?
Hanging out in your house.
My house?
Yep.
Thought you weren’t coming.
Changed my mind.
Renie waited ten minutes for another text from him. She sat there, staring at the stupid phone. Waiting. Nothing.
Tomorrow morning she’d get up and drive back up to school. She needed to study, and the way things were between them lately, she wouldn’t be able to focus.
She was halfway down the stairs when her phone chirped again.
Wish I hadn’t left tonight.
What did he expect her to say? Why?
Cuz wish I was home.
Where was he—in jail? Why don’t you come home?
2 much 2 drink.
Oh for Christ’s sake. Where are you?
O’Malleys.
On my way.