stands back, holds up a finger, and disappears. I sit on the edge of the bed and hold Kent’s foot like it’s his hand, interweaving my fingers between his long toes.
James returns with a pair of shorts. He doesn’t ask for help and I don’t watch. When he’s done Kent is no longer naked.
He pats my shoulder on the way out.
I wonder how often James has seen Kent shitfaced, passed-out drunk in order for him to be nonchalant about it.
I don’t plan on sleeping at all. I crawl to the top of the bed near Kent’s head and snuggle against him, watching his mouth in case he starts to puke again.
As I stare I trace his still features. His jaw is covered in stubble, fair hairs poking out of his skin. I lean over and run my lips over his cheek, kissing his face as he sleeps. Slowly I trace the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, and the indents in his cheeks that sink sometimes when he smiles. I miss his smile so much. I wonder if I ever got to see a real one I earned. I deserve one after tonight.
The sun rises as I wait for him to wake. It creeps over the top of my curtains and bathes us both in golden sunshine. It makes his hair look white and his eyelashes translucent. He’s so beautiful, I think, breathless by the sight of him. I delicately touch his eyelashes, parting them as I brush across them like a fan. I run my fingers through his hair as the sun sucks the color from it. It’s still wet from his sweat. I touch his chest and then his armpit, checking to see if he’s hot again. Finding he’s cold, I bring my sheets up to cover us both.
At seven thirty my eyelids start to drift. I try and fight them. Kent needs me. But I’m drained.
I’m awoken by groaning. My eyes flash open. Kent is rolling around in my bed, my sheets twisted around his feet as sweat slicks his chest and arms. I check the clock. It’s two in the afternoon. I fear what’s coming and go in search of a bucket. I find one under the kitchen sink. When I return, I set the bucket down and crawl to him.
I gently tap his cheek. “Kent?”
His eyes flash open. He lets out a huge stink-filled breath ripe of puke and whiskey and touches his chest as if his heart is going to pound out of it. “Raina?” he groans, his voice gruff and scratchy.
This crazy relief slams into me. I press my forehead against his and kiss his nose. “Yeah, Kent. It’s me.”
“I’m going to puke.”
I quickly grab the bucket and hold it out to him. Almost immediately he retches into it. I think I see a tear in his eye but it could be the strain of puking. His body bends inward on itself as he continues to get rid of the whiskey in his system. He’s contorted in pain and all I can do is rub his back.
Finally, he pushes the bucket away and falls onto his back. “Raina,” he whimpers, shaking, “it hurts.”
I curl up against him and rub his chest soothingly. “I’m sorry it hurts. Next time don’t be an idiot and drink an entire bottle of whiskey, you jackass.”
“Next time don’t ignore me.”
He’s still drunk. I can hear it in his voice. After last night I don’t deserve this. “What I do or don’t do cannot be used as an excuse to get this messed up. You were gone. I was so scared!” I scream at him, smacking his chest. “What were you thinking?”
He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Why were you scared?”
I gape at him. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“You. The last thing I remember is watching you dance with that dipshit the way you danced with me. It was happening all over again.”
He isn’t making sense. “You don’t remember drinking an entire bottle of whiskey, bringing a girl back here, her giving you Ecstasy, and then you overdosing?”
“I overdosed?” He groans. “Shit. Rain, I’m trying to listen to you right now, really I am, but all I hear is ahh.”
“You were choking on your own vomit!” I smack his chest again harder. “You overdosed. What were you thinking taking Ecstasy? With her,” I add bitterly. “Why do you have to include these random women? She left you alone when you needed help. She won’t even take