The next morning I wake to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. I pull the covers up over my tousled hair and hold my breath, trying to stop the pounding that thuds somewhere above my right eye. After what seems like an eternity, the shower cuts off and Joey comes out, a pair of jeans already on, damn. His chest is bare and his strong arms flex as he rubs a towel through his hair, but I had hoped for something more than that. I watch him cross the room, my head buried beneath the covers so he thinks I’m still asleep, but when he sits down on his bed to pull on a pair of socks, he looks over and sees me peeking out at him. “Welcome to the land of the living.”
My tongue tastes like I spent night felching a bevy of Leprechauns instead of just tossing back a few hard drinks. I gri
