Well Met by Jen DeLuca

Author:Jen DeLuca [DeLuca, Jen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-09-02T18:30:00+00:00

Thirteen

It was not fun.

Okay, the actual night out was great. Mostly. As promised, the pizza at Jackson’s was good, and the drinks were better. For a place I had been actively avoiding due to its outside appearance, inside it was warm and friendly. Gleaming wood; a karaoke machine that worked a little too well once the pitchers of beer started flowing; dartboards and pool tables in the back. It had been a long time since I’d had a night out like that.

Which was why it had been a long time since I’d felt this shitty the morning after a night out like that.

Coffee was essential. Also a large glass of water. And a very dark, very quiet room where I could not talk to anyone all day. Thankfully, April was ambulatory, and ready to tackle the forty-minute commute to her office job for the first time since her accident. She hummed with energy while I sat at the kitchen table and stared into the cup of coffee in front of me. Would it be enough, or would I need another three or four?

“You didn’t need to get up this early, you know.” April stuck her earrings in and brushed her hair back over her shoulders. She’d blown it out; it looked sleek and smooth. Very professional. Mine was a frizzy nightmare that couldn’t be contained.

My shrug was more of a slump from where I sat. “I didn’t know if you would be up for driving yet. Thought I’d get up just in case.” Physically she was in great shape; her limp was barely noticeable now. But she still tensed up when we went places in the car, and she hadn’t yet been behind the wheel since her accident. So for her to think she could swan out the door like it was nothing was a little presumptuous on her part.

“Nah.” She poured coffee into a travel mug and added a dollop of half-and-half from the fridge. “I’ll be fine.”

See? Presumptuous. But I sipped my coffee and didn’t contradict her.

“Seriously, Em, go back to bed. There’s no reason for you to be up at this hour. Especially since you were out so late last night.”

“Ugh.” My head thudded to the table. Ow. “Don’t remind me. Mistakes were made.” Mistakes of the multiple-tequila-shots variety. I wasn’t a tequila girl, but Mitch could be very persuasive. That boy was something like ninety-eight percent muscle; he could drink. I shouldn’t have even tried to keep up, but I’d been so discombobulated by the roller coaster of emotions that weekend at Faire. Simon was a dick. No, Simon was kissing me. No, he said he’d made a mistake in doing so. No, we were kissing again, and he was damn good at it. No, once other people were around he was back to acting like I was the living embodiment of gum stuck to his shoe. I’d hardly seen him all day Sunday, and while he’d shown up at Jackson’s with everyone else, he looked like he hated being there and was gone after about fifteen minutes.

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