Danny Doormat by Rowan McAllister

Author:Rowan McAllister [McAllister, Rowan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-64405-788-9
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2020-04-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

ASA WAS warm… too warm. He was sticky with sweat, and, worse than that, his cheek was damp with what was most likely his own drool. A burst of moist, dog breath-scented air made him grimace and open his eyes. Minion’s gaping pink maw filled his vision, which didn’t seem quite right. Did the dog somehow grow a foot? Plus, whatever Asa was lying on was harder than a pillow and moving.

Frowning, he lifted his head and glanced up to find Danny out cold with his mouth hanging open. Asa had somehow fallen asleep draped across Danny’s chest, and he’d left an incriminating wet spot of drool on Danny’s shirt. He didn’t have time to try to sort through the implications of that realization before a knife of pain lanced through his skull and he moaned. He put a hand to his forehead and pushed himself upright as gingerly as he could manage. His stomach roiled and the knife in his brain changed into a bass drum, keeping time with his heartbeat.

He moaned again and reached for the bottle of water some angel had left on the coffee table. Something had died in his mouth, and if he didn’t get rid of the taste soon, whatever was in his stomach threatened to make a reappearance. The thought of having to rush to the bathroom in his current state did not appeal, and he swallowed thickly.

He took a few deep breaths and drank half the bottle of water before he could manage the childproof cap on the Tylenol the aforementioned angel—probably Danny—had also left on the table. Once he’d downed a couple of pills, he followed Minion’s persistent summons and shuffled over to the sliding glass doors to let him out. A cool, damp breeze wafted over him from outside, and he sighed in relief as he leaned on the doorjamb and squinted against the morning sunlight. After a few more deep breaths, he was feeling slightly more human, even if the throbbing in his head hadn’t subsided yet.

He glanced over his shoulder at Danny’s sleeping form and tried to make sense of the jumble in his head. His current hangover and the open bottle of tequila on the coffee table helped fill in some of the blanks.

“Shit,” he muttered.

He’d had a bad night.

It hadn’t started off too bad. He’d put on some music, pulled up some pictures, and decided to toast Sean’s memory with his favorite tequila. That had been the plan anyway. But obviously, things had gone south from there… probably around the third or fourth “toast” to Sean.

With dawning embarrassment, he remembered drunk-dialing Danny at work, even if he didn’t recall exactly what he’d said. After a bit of a search, he found his phone on the floor by the sectional. He glanced at the history and was relieved that he hadn’t drunk-dialed anyone else. He lowered himself back onto the cushions, grabbed the bottle of water again, and downed the rest of it. He’d barely set it back on the coffee table when Danny groaned and rolled onto his side.

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