BOO! by Stone Richards

Author:Stone Richards [Richards, Stone]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

I’m so fucking weak. Paul released a long breath and stepped inside the bathroom. He fumbled with the snap on his jeans while Scott pulled the shower curtain and turned on the water. He hoped the hot shower would sober him up—or at least revive his body enough so that he could talk to Scott in a logical fashion. The sting of rejection still burned inside him. Why had he asked Scott to shower with him—knowing in his heart that the answer would be no?

Scott left the bathroom and Paul grimaced as the closing of the door punctuated the final decision Scott had murmured seconds earlier. A sharp pang cut across his midsection and he groped his stomach, hoping he wasn’t going to be sick again. The agony of being rejected again by Scott brought tears to his eyes. He scrubbed the back of one hand across his face and stumbled toward the shower stall.

Paul stood with his back to the hot spray of water, letting it wash over his head and splash against his shoulders. Reality was cruel and he had endured enough insults for one night. Surely Scott had left his room. Perhaps he was with his buddies and off to another party by now. He closed his eyes and tried to envision the hot water cleansing his mind, washing away all memory of Scott Carmichael.

When the water grew cold, Paul roused and turned to shut it off. Drawing the curtain aside, he groped the towel bar for a towel. He swiped the towel across his face then draped it about his waist as he stepped from the shower. The water had succeeded in waking his senses a bit. He didn’t feel quite as groggy as before. He drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs and trying to clear his mind completely. In the past, when he had gotten drunk, he had slept it off. His brows drew together. He hadn’t been drunk in almost a year. The last time he had over indulged, Scott had gotten pissed and read him the riot act. He shook his head. There had been a specific reason why he had drank to excess—but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember. Maybe we had argued. He gazed into the mirror hanging over the sink, then raised one hand and wiped away the condensation.

His reflection stared back at him. His blue eyes held a look of sadness. For the past month he had gazed at his reflection in the mirror and promised himself he would make it through the tragedy of losing Scott. And for the duration, he had continued to lie to himself. He grimaced. Seeing Scott again, being so close to him, feeling his body again—the experience had revived the hurt he had been trying to push away. He leaned on the sink and tried to convince himself to leave the room and go to bed. The party was still going on and the music blaring in the living room was having little trouble penetrating the thin walls of the old house.

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