Here’s a continuation from my story last week. Hope you enjoy it and thanks to Michael for allowing me to do the Wednesday briefs to continue it.
The following morning Cade finally woke up from his long night. “Ugh.” The aches and pains in his muscles didn’t allow him to move. His eyes flickered and mouth tasted like he’d swallowed the Sahara desert.
Groaning inwardly, he shifted slowly to attempt getting up but to no avail. His head pounded as if he’d been hit over the head with a mallet. Cade consumed so much of that cheap champagne the night prior and ultimately he paid the price.
Hating the little light creeping in the window, he yanked the sheets over his head, wishing he could turn back the clock to last evening. Just how much did I drink?
Yeah, how much? It get’s bad when you can’t fucking remember how many glasses you threw down your throat. Thank goodness someone…
“Oooh shitt…” Cade panicked. Memories started flooding back into his mind as they were on instant replay. “Bobby.”
Yep, Bobby was there to help him while he called earl over the toilet, but what happened after that? Suddenly alert, he pulled the covers back and through tired eyes glanced around the room. This ain’t my place! Where was he? It wasn’t Mike’s either. Did Bobby bring him home to his apartment last night? He’d sworn he’d never been to Bobby Leslie’s place since he came back in town but seemingly he was here now. Gotta be. Oh God, I made a fool of myself.
Cade slinked back under the covers hating himself for the stunt he pulled. He was with Bobby Leslie, the man of his dreams and he ended up puking his guts out sick as a dog. Most likely, Bobby had to bring him home and carry him to his bed. Did I throw up anymore? “Yuck…” Just thinking about it made his stomach churn a little more.
Cade picked a fine time to get drunk as shit; at a party with all their friends and Bobby Leslie in attendance. “Just kill me now,” he muttered under his breath, sliding further under the bedspread.
Perhaps if he closed his eyes, he might be dreaming. Instead of suffering from the hangover from hell, he might wake up in the stables, lying in a batch of hay. Maybe he’d drifted off after the morning’s chores and decided to succumb to a short nap to get ready for the rest of the day.
Disturbing him from his thoughts, the door creaked and shut quickly making him jump. “Cade my man. You among the livin’?”
Bobby’s voice rang like a manacing alarm in his ears. Cade hadn’t fell asleep after chores. He wasn’t grabbing a cat nap. The nightmare of being in Bobby Leslie’s bed feeling like shit had just begun.