Chapter 6
Parrish peeled open an eyelid and sat up in slow, cautious increments. His head felt like some heavy metal band was whaling away on their drums in it and that at any second it was going to fall off and roll around on the bed. His stomach seemed okay, which was a relief. It wouldn’t have been pretty otherwise. As for his breath, he was glad no one was nearby, because going by the way his mouth tasted, he had a feeling his breath could peel paint off the Hearst Tower.
And weren’t these the same symptoms he’d had for his first and only hangover?
So, he was hungover, but all he’d drunk was…
The punch. Goddammit. It must have been spiked. He’d groan, but he really was afraid his head might explode at any random sound.
He clenched his internal muscles, and cringed at the twinge. I
