He was in horrible shape. Possibly even as bad as I was. A low moan tore out of him when he lifted his head. He must’ve decided it wasn’t worth it because it flopped back to the sofa and only his brown eyes turned up to mine, although even that looked like it hurt.
He winced, shielding his eyes from the sun streaming in through the window before he managed to speak. “Well, that was a complete shitshow. How much did we drink?”
For the first time, I let my eyes wander to take in the carnage we’d left behind. My house was a sprawling place right on the beach in Malibu. It was a pretty open-plan, allowing me to see into the kitchen, onto the balcony that led off this room to the pool, and into the dining room beyond the den next to this room.
Fallen soldiers in the form of empty bottles from my bar and wine cellar were strewn across just about every surface. There was a giant inflatable unicorn I’d once bought for a cast after-party floating in my pool, even though it’d been at least two years since I’d last seen it.
Various other knickknacks littered the balcony and the floors inside. A couple of pizza boxes, though I definitely didn’t remember eating. Some beer bottles on the loungers outside. Even a remote-control car and a drone I’d gotten to test them out for something for the show once.
I rubbed my eyes, closing them before I risked the possible pain of shaking my head. “Everything. I’d say we drank pretty much everything.”
Holding his palm over his forehead, he moved into a sitting position as slowly as an octogenarian and scrubbed his free hand over his face. “That sounds about right. Fuck. When was the last time we drank this much?”
“Long enough ago that I don’t remember it.” A vague memory flashed in my head at the words, and I snapped my fingers. “No, wait. It was after you found out your script for that fairy-tale retelling got canned.”
Another much longer groan came out of him. “Right. You’re right. Or no. Maybe not. Did your family history not get leaked after that? The great Bootlegger Scandal of oh-whatever-the-fuck-it-was. Do you remember the shit they said about you? That you were ‘somewhat of a baddie with a gritty reputation to be rough around the edges.’”
I laughed and then immediately regretted it when the sound made the gnomes increase their efforts tenfold. “That bender was epic. Truly worthy of my forefathers who risked their lives for the sake of prosperity and getting people wasted in the prohibition era. I’d drink to them if I was planning on ever drinking again.”
“I’m pretty sure we drank to them last night. At the very least, we’d have done them proud once more.” He put his hands behind him on the sofa, slowly swinging his legs off until his feet touched the floor and he stood. He swayed a little once he was on his feet, his lips curling like he’d smelled something disgusting. “I’m joining your sweeping declaration, though. No more drinking. I can smell myself, and it’s not good.”
“Nope, but I have the perfect cure for this hangover. Follow me.” Going outside into the blinding, scorching sun sounded like torture, but the pool was out there, and we desperately needed it.
“Just letting you know that I’m barely keeping it together here,” he grunted as he followed me to the stackable sliding doors. I could practically hear the nausea in his voice.
“Hang on one minute. You’ll feel better soon.” I didn’t bother to open the doors all the way, choosing to open the first couple wide enough that we could get through before slipping out.
It felt like the sun was raining its very own hellfire down on me when I stepped onto the tiled balcony. Fuck it. I’m making a run for it.
At least the tiles were still cool beneath my feet, the grass they gave way to soft and smelling freshly cut. With the pool in reach, I let myself fall into the cool water without stopping to grab a towel or shorts.
Dave was still fully dressed from the waist down, but he didn’t seem to have any inclination to wait either. He dropped in beside me without any hesitation.
The water was cool and refreshing, washing away some of the grossness that no doubt clung to us like a bad fucking rash. When I felt up to it, I did some laps while Dave hung with his arms on the ledge and his eyes turned toward the ocean.
He kept dipping his head below the water, coming up only to do it again. I understood where he was coming from. The water was nice, but the sun was fucking brutal to us in this state.
“I’m done,” he announced about twenty minutes later. He climbed out, stripping down to his boxers and leaving his socks, shoes, and slacks right there in a pile next to the pool.
After shaking the water out of his hair like a dog, he hooked a thumb at the house. “I’ll grab towels.”
He came back a minute later, and I got out of the pool too. We dried off and went to the kitchen where, after drinking a shit ton of water, I flipped on the coffee machine on the counter.
“Feeling better yet?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Better seems like a stretch, but at least I’m not feeling like you’ll have to be writing my eulogy soon anymore.”
“I’ll take it.” I turned to grab mugs and the strongest fucking roast I had, popped the pods into the machine, and waited until the kitchen was filled with the smell of fresh, bitter coffee before filling the mugs.
Dave’s eyes were bloodshot as fuck. He heaved himself onto a barstool at the counter, resting his head on his arms as his eyes tracked me to the fridge. “Don’t tell me you actually plan on eating right now.”
“I’m considering either an entire head of lettuce or frying up everything fry-able in this house.” I opened the door to the sound of his protests.
“All I’m saying is, there’s no way I’m eating right now,” he said. “Unless you’ve got those mini hash browns. Maybe an avocado. Any chance you have hotdogs?”
“Yes to all of the above. I’m also adding fruit, five packs of bacon, and some smoked salmon.”
When I turned with all the ingredients I could hold at one time in my hands, he was pale. “Smoked salmon? No. No way. If you open that right now, you can go back to thinking about a proper sendoff for me.”
I dropped the salmon on the counter, grinning like the asshole I was. “I’ll wait until you’ve dished up whatever you want, but I’m eating this. I need some healthy fats.”
“First the laps, now the fruit and the healthy fats. You might not be from here, bro, but you’ve sure as fuck made yourself into one of them.”
The swim had made laughing hurt less, and I did it as I tossed the salmon right at his face. “Say what you want about me, but you’re the hipster who requested a fucking avocado.”
“Avocados were around long before hipsters, asshole. They’re really good and really good for us.” He shot me a glare and spun the salmon back my way across the counter before he fixed his eyes to mine. I knew from the expression in them what he was about to ask before he asked it.
“We haven’t spoken about it yet, but I’m going to have to leave after we eat, so it’s time we got to it. You can tell me to fuck off if you want, but I’d be a shitty friend if I didn’t even ask. Angelina. What are you going to do?”
To his credit, he didn’t say I told you so, even though he had. “Have you heard from her?”