Nothing but The Sheets by Stacy McWilliams

Author:Stacy McWilliams [McWilliams, Stacy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2020-08-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Fuck, Fuckerty, Fuck

Blake

Leaving Cara was hard, because my body wanted her. Every part of me wanted her and seeing her standing there with the slight blush on her cheeks, caused me to lose my damn mind. I’d been drinking. A lot. I’d had to. I had to catch Klaire out and find out if she’d really assaulted Cara, but kissing Klaire made me feel sick, so I’d drank to numb myself and it worked.

She had been drinking too and it was easy to get her to fess up once she was drunk. She blabbed the whole story and I managed to capture it on camera. Once that was done, I faked a migraine and texted Josh to say I’d got her. He messaged back to say he’d gotten Harley too, but he was pretty wasted too. Ben came up to me with Josh and laughed as he took us both in.

“You two are a mess. I’ll call ya a cab.”

His eyes twinkled as he looked between us, but Josh was concentrating on what he was doing. All he had to do was attach the videos. He’d set up the email before we’d even left, because he knew he’d be in too much of a mess to do it when he was drunk.

“Cheers, mate.” I answered him and he wandered off laughing.

Josh sent the email with the attachments and we waited on our cab outside. He was hiding from Harley and I was hiding from Klaire. We both breathed a sigh of relief as our cab arrived and he told me how he was going to tell Cara when he got home. As the cab stopped outside our houses, I paid the man because I was beginning to sober up slightly, but I still couldn’t walk in a straight line. Josh went towards his house and I went towards Don’s. It wasn’t my house: it’d never felt like home to me and it never would be, because my home was in Georgia, with my dad. His face came into my head and I stopped walking, doubling over as the pain crippled me again.

“Fuck,” I hissed as a lump appeared back in my throat. I’d managed to go a few hours without thinking of my dad but thinking of him hurt. Every time I thought of him, it was as though there was a knife twisting in my gut. I walked up to the door and stood for a ridiculously long time, trying to fit my car key from home into the lock and then I dropped my keys. Only when I’d scooped them back up, did I realize what an idiot I was. Finally making it inside, I went straight to the bathroom to take a leak and then climbed the stairs to my room, where I flopped onto the bed, but I needed a shower. The smell of alcohol was turning my stomach, so I stripped off and went for one, where I bounced off the walls a little, but I managed to wash and dry myself without incident.

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