The Little Things: a Small Town Age Gap Romance (Second Hope Book 1) by Jessica Prince

Author:Jessica Prince [Prince, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jessica Prince Books LLC
Published: 2024-08-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Zach

It felt like someone was using the inside of my skull like a steel drum. The sun cut through the window, searing my corneas the moment I made the mistake of opening my eyes. It took a while for me to figure out what woke me up, the disorientation creating a fog in my head that didn’t seem to want to clear. Finally it hit me, the sound of whispered curses. And the smell of charred bacon. That was what had woken me up, and the moment realization of what I was smelling penetrated my consciousness, my stomach lurched.

“Shit,” I grunted as I pushed up to sitting, breathing in through my nose and out past my lips slowly, trying my hardest not to puke. My back screamed at the motion and my neck felt stiff as a board. The couch I’d been sleeping on was only half my size, and definitely not something I had in my own house. Then a voice spoke up that caused my lungs to seize.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?”

I made the mistake of jerking my head around toward the kitchen at the back of the cabin, causing my brain to rattle and bang around inside my skull. “Oh, fuck me,” I grunted, slamming my eyes closed and pressing my thumbs deep into their sockets to try and stop the stabbing pain.

“If you’re going to be sick, I’m going to have to ask you to do it in the bathroom. I’m kind of a sympathy barfer.”

I peeled my eyelids back open on a soothing inhale and looked to where Rae was standing in her kitchen, wielding a pair of tongs. “Is that a thing?”

She nodded seriously. “Sure is. You puke, I puke. That’s just how it is.”

Christ, why the fuck did I drink so much last night? Then I remembered, and the urge to get obliterated again reappeared.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to be sick.” At least I hoped not. With the smell of charcoaled bacon filling up the room, that was still up in the air.

“My attempt at cooking failed miserably,” she said as she moved to the small kitchen window and pushed it up to let the smoke out and fresh air in. “But I do have some coffee, if you think you can handle it.”

I needed coffee desperately, especially after the bender I’d gone on the night before—and Christ, I’d be lucky if that rot-gut bourbon had left any of my stomach lining behind—but despite being so drunk I couldn’t stand on my own two feet, I’d been cursed with a memory good enough to recall all the events that had taken place while I was . . . impaired. The smartest thing I could do was get the hell out of there before I did something I’d regret. Well . . . something else.

Fuck me, but I couldn’t believe I said all the things I said. I couldn’t believe I’d kissed her. And of course it had to be the

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