Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
In unison, we slipped off the boxes. Dash’s entire limp body landed on top of mine. Normally, I could absorb Dash’s body weight, but the fingers I used on the ground below me for balance weren’t on my side.
“Dash, what’re you doin’? Help me out,” I said. He didn’t respond. Then I noticed his chest slowly rising and falling. He was asleep, or passed out, or both. Gently, I slapped his cheek to wake him. “Do you hear me?”
A loud snore rumbled from my guy, his head turning a minuscule amount. Or maybe his slight movement came from my quivering muscles.
“Well, hell.” My ass hit the cool concrete. At the same time, my release began trickling out of him. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that?
I read the contents of the boxes around us. There was no reference to anything more than glass stamped on the outside. No cloth anything. Another slip in the plan of our secret hideaway. Fuck, Dash slumped over, slowly sliding off me as his snores grew louder.
Carefully, I laid him out beside me with his swim trunks still hanging off one foot. I manhandled the shorts up his legs, then yanked harder to get them over his ass to his hips. Mine were still a few feet away. Had I realized how intoxicated he was before starting all this?
Maybe.
I’d enjoyed myself thoroughly.
I tugged my trunks on then took the moment to straighten the few displaced boxes. With a giant heave-ho and one fluid move, I repositioned Dash from the floor to land over my shoulder. He hung there like a rag doll. One karate chop later, and I shoved the material of his swimwear deep inside his crease. Nobody needed to see my little swimmers slipping down his legs.
Off we went. I bravely pushed through the curtain and, just like Dash predicted, our disappearance had gone completely unnoticed.
“You’re not as light as you were the last time I did this.”
Dash gave no response, but his body did begin to slide down my arm, making me have to hoist him more securely over my shoulder. A sudden cheer erupted from the dance floor. I had no idea what they were celebrating, but lifted a fist pump high in the air. My own tiredness was getting the best of me too.
“Do you need help?” A host came racing over as I reached the elevator doors.
“Probably need a cab,” I said, edging past her onto the elevator. “And we checked our stuff.” She followed me into the elevator car. On the descent, the world tilted, requiring another stabilizing step from me. My stomach did a full somersault on the way down.
“I’ll meet you at the front doors. There should be a cab there.” She went one way, and I the other. As predicted, the doorman motioned a cab that pulled to the front of the building. The host returned as I did my best to lower Dash into the seat without doing too much damage.
“Dash, right? Here you go.” She handed over one large clear bag full of everything we brought with us. Cool. “Did we tip you?”
“Yes, sir. Before you started. You two were generous.” Cool again, and I gave a thumbs-up, pushing Dash’s legs up to slide into the seat. We probably weren’t going to be the big-tippers for too much longer.
2: The Sweet Daisy Mae
Dash
“Mornin’,” Beau chirped, slamming his cell phone on the kitchen counter. Well, not so much a forceful drop as a placement. But with my head pounding like a rock concert, it echoed like shattering glass falling down on me.
“Good morning,” I replied, but only because it was Beau. Anyone else might have received a cold shoulder. “We need to tackle the hangover cure again. You’re right, it feels very much like swine flu.”
“Told you,” Beau said. “You drinkin’ that?”
I glanced down at the Keurig, busy filling my cup with coffee. The answer seemed obvious, but I replied anyway. “Yeah?”
“Want me to get a couple of raw eggs to put inside?”
My dry heave was violent and instant. I pressed a hand to my stomach and took big breaths through my nose. Luckily, I got it under control. Beau wasn’t near as funny as he thought he was.
“I came home and hydrated. I feel okay, I guess.” Beau opened the refrigerator door as if to follow through with his threat. He better not… I watched as his hand reached for the side of the door. I didn’t need to see the bottle to know it was blue Powerade, Beau’s constant sidekick for his outdoor activities and these types of occasions. One bottle slid across the counter toward me, and he took another.
“I had one a few minutes ago and took the ibuprofen you left out. How did we get home last night?” I asked, pouring loads of honey into my hot coffee.