Crazy Stupid Love (Crazy Love #1)(5)
Waking up is always my least favorite part of the day. That’s when everything comes flooding back. It gets easier as the day progresses and I have time to numb it away, but then the next morning it returns full force, same as the last.
Deciding I’m going to need one more, I fill the glass again, my eyes following Gavin as he half carries the still drunk girl towards the bar.
“You could f*cking help me,” he grunts, sliding the woman onto a bar stool.
She immediately leans forward, groaning loudly as she rests her forehead against the bar in front of her.
“I’m not the one that stuck my dick in her.” I shake my head before lifting the glass back to my lips, the second drink going down much smoother than the first.
“Whatever dick. Can you at least call a cab?” He slides onto the stool next to her, lifting my glass to his nose. “Starting off with the hard shit today, that can’t be good,” he observes.
“I promised Mom I would meet her and Trey for lunch. I don’t know why I even f*cking agreed to it. I know exactly how it’s going to go.” I sigh, considering pouring a third drink but quickly deciding against it. I do have to drive after all.
“Then why did you?” he questions, knowing how difficult the relationship between me and my older brother has been over the past few years.
“Because she’s my mother, one of the only people in my family that doesn’t treat me like I’m just a piece of f*cking scum the world would be better off without. At least for my sake, she pretends not to feel that way.” The thought has me pouring another drink despite my decision to call it at two.
The moment the liquid seers my throat I feel my nerves start to calm; the potency of the whiskey making everything a bit more tolerable.
“So are you going to tell me who that girl was, the one I saw you staring at all night? I gotta say I’m surprised she wasn’t doing the walk of shame out of your apartment this morning.” He laughs, signally that I pour him a shot from the bottle still sitting in front of me.
“One, it wasn’t like that. I was just really f*cking intrigued by what someone like her was doing here. She seemed so out of place. Two, you know I don’t let women sleep over,” I say, sitting a clean glass in front of him before filling it with whiskey.
“Well I don’t know why it wasn’t like that; that bitch was hot.” He smirks, causing me to have to swallow down my knee-jerk reaction to slam his head down onto the bar.
I can’t justify the reaction, nor do I have the mental capacity right now to even really think about it. She may have been stunning but also entirely out of my league. I know the difference between a f*ckable woman and one that is simply off limits. She’s way too innocent to handle me, and I don’t have the time to worry about staining a perfect canvas. I don’t need any more guilt on my f*cking conscience.
“Whatever dude.” I shake off the thought, grabbing my cell from my pocket before punching in the phone number for the local cab company. It takes me less than thirty seconds to secure a car for Gavin’s half passed out one-nighter. “They’ll be here in ten,” I say, sliding the phone back into my jeans before collecting the cash on the bar.
“Thanks, dude.”
“Whatever. Just make sure you’re here to let Shay in so he can get this place back into shape for tonight. And please, for the love of f*ck, take a shower. You f*cking stink,” I say, exiting the bar before Gavin can say anymore.
****
The vibration of my motorcycle beneath me soothes my nerves during the long two-hour ride to Springfield. I weave in and out of traffic, the visor of my helmet left open so I can feel the wind whip against my face.
It’s not often that I get to take my bike out for such long trips and I have to admit, while I’m dreading the destination, I am rather enjoying the ride.
While the October temperatures have dropped into the sixties over the past couple of weeks, I don’t feel even the slightest chill. The whiskey is still running warm in my veins despite the loss of its effects on my mind.
Pulling my bike into a side street parking spot, I power off the engine and slide the helmet from my head, running a hand through my tangled hair. Pulling out a cigarette, I light it and take a deep inhale, loving the way the smoke fills my lungs, the burn that engulfs my chest. Taking another long drag, I look around, taking in the scenery. The area packed with college aged kids carrying laptop bags and books, no doubt heading towards the nearest coffee shop to congregate.
Having grown up just ten minutes from Eugene, I’m used to the atmosphere. The University of Oregon draws in a younger crowd that dominates this part of town; primarily the reason why I avoid coming out this way. Well that, and the fact that I have no desire to return home or to relive the demons that haunt this place.
I relive that same hell every morning just by opening my eyes. I don’t need any additional reminders telling me what I lost. What I broke.
Climbing off my motorcycle, I take one last drag before dropping the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with my boot. Latching the helmet to the handlebars, I straighten my black leather jacket before sliding on my aviator sunglasses. I’ll do anything I can to conceal my identity. Not that there’s anyone around who knows or gives a f*ck who I am, but I don’t even like risking it.
I spot my mother sitting at a round table in the outdoor patio area at Lovett’s, her favorite little diner, the menu just inches from her face. Her blonde hair is shorter than the last time I saw her and peppered with more gray than I remember. I have to remind myself that it’s been almost a year, since last Christmas to be exact.