1989 by Sam C Leonhard

Author:Sam C Leonhard [Leonhard, Sam C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781613726259
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THIS time, waking up didn’t come easily. This time, waking up came with a monster headache and a taste in his mouth as if something had died in it. The floor underneath him was hard, and his nostrils flared at the combined smells of smoke, alcohol, vomit, and sweat.

Had he thrown up? And if yes, why?

Trying to figure out where his hands were and how to use them, Theo nearly banged his head at the metallic bar running around the counter’s base. Countless shoes had left their dirt on the bar, and when he put a hand to it, it felt as if he’d never let it go again. At least the bar helped him to get to his knees.

When his stomach heaved, he left it at that.

“Need a bucket?” the barman asked, annoyance in his voice rather than concern. “You hit your head pretty badly, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t puke on the floor. Whilst you were out like a light I cleaned up, you know.”

Huh?

Theo squinted against the light, although there barely was any light to speak of. Only a few LEDs illuminated the bottles decorating the shelves behind the barman. Other than that, the place was dark.

“Where am I?” Theo managed. “What time is it?”

Actually, he wanted to know what year it was, but thought better of it right before the words would have tumbled out of his stupid mouth. It was today, of course. He was a forty-two-year-old, married-and-soon-to-be-divorced, unhappy, and unkissed man.

“This is Shenanigan’s,” the barman said. “It’s twenty past midnight. You crashed when you were about to leave. Tried to wake you up, and when you didn’t, I waited.”

Theo frowned. “I could have had a heart attack,” he pointed out, still on his knees. Only when his stomach had calmed down a bit did he get up.

The sight wasn’t any better from up here. The pub was still ugly and dirty, the barman was still irritating, and Theo could still feel Luke’s lips on his.

He closed his eyes. This was bad, far worse than he’d ever been able to imagine. He’d dreamed of Luke, of the night they’d never shared, and it had been so real, seemed so absolutely and utterly true it was impossible not to believe it had happened.

“He said he loved me,” he murmured, not loud enough for the barman to hear.

It was hard to breathe. Those three words, made up by his idiotic brain, meant more to him than his job, his wife, his entire life.

“You didn’t have a heart attack. You look like you work out, and your heart was beating just fine,” the barman said, leaning at the counter. “I checked. So I decided to let you come back in your own time. You know you keeled over precisely at midnight? Funny, that. For a moment I thought there was some kind of light glowing around you, but it was just a car passing by outside. Now could you get lost? Promised my girls to take them to the zoo tomorrow morning.

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