CHAPTER TWELVE
Fringe
A few days later, I’m wasted. Leaning on a hot body who’s helping to keep me upright. Fuck if I know who she is.
Lips are on my lips. They’re soft and yielding. When I lean in, I stumble, which leads to us stumbling around together and I laugh. My laughter is cut short by a playful swat on my arm. Then her lips are back on mine, so I ease into the kiss out of habit, if nothing else.
I can’t remember what bar I’m in. Only hope it’s not Lucifer’s. It’s the last thought I have before I blackout.
Then my head is pounding in the complete darkness, until I realize my eyes are closed. I want to laugh but my stomach roils and I’m gripped by a wave of nausea so severe, I don’t think I’ll make it as I leap out of bed and make a stumbling dash to the bathroom. If I was anywhere but my own apartment, I couldn’t have gotten to the toilet in time to heave chunks of who the hell knows what until nothing is coming up but spit, my body convulsing.
Dry heaves. Fucking hate them.
At last, they stop and I rest my head on the toilet seat, not sure I’m done praying to the porcelain god.
It’s been a few days since that nightmare at three a.m. and I haven’t heard from Dawn since. Well, not directly. Divine texted me the next day to tell me that Dawn is grounded and doesn’t have her phone.
Fucking great.
I’m such a fuck up.
I’m shivering and note that I’m naked. I don’t remember how I got home, or where I was in the first place.
Blackout drunk. I deserve how bad I’m feeling right now.
Did I take my clothes off? And then a thought strikes me. Or, did someone else?
“Hey, are you alright?” an unfamiliar female voice asks, could be anybody.
“Yeah,” I croak and push to my feet. Bracing against the sink, I turn on the cold water and splash it on my face. It helps a little.
“Can I get you something? Coffee?”
The thought of coffee sends me back down for another round of prayer. Between heaves, I hear footsteps receding. I guess she got her answer.
I lose track of time but eventually feel well enough to leave the bathroom. Shuffling to my bedroom, I pull on a pair of sweats then head toward the living room, where the is TV playing.
“Hi, Fringe,” a cute short-haired redhead with shapely legs greets me, lounged on my couch, dressed only in my white t-shirt. Great, she knows my name. I don’t know hers. “You were amazing last night.” She smiles and there’s a twinkle of delight in her eyes. “Sorry you got sick.”
I grunt and ease into the beat-up old recliner that was here when I rented the place, too disgusted at myself to say anything. But I have questions.
“How’d we get here?” My voice is hoarse and I try clearing it, which does nothing good for my headache.
“Uber. You don’t remember?”
I shake my head. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She chuckles. “You were pretty out of it.”
“And yet you came home with me anyway.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. It’s a nasty thing to say but I feel like shit. Not much of an excuse, but it’s the only one I have.
It doesn’t seem to faze her though. “Well, we were talking most of the night. I liked the conversation.” She shrugs. “Then you started pounding back the drinks. I was kinda bummed but then worried that you’d never make it home by yourself.”
“So you poured me into an Uber and slid in beside me to make sure I’d get home safely?”
She confirms my question with a sweet, self-deprecating smile. “Yeah, I guess. By then I didn’t really think you’d be able to ahhh… you know.” She laughs and it’s kind of cute how embarrassed she is. “Get it up, sorry.” She’s blushing and I notice she has a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. “I figured I’d see you to the door, make sure you didn’t pass out and swallow your tongue and then I could call another ride.”
Now, I’m confused. It’s making my head throb. “Wait, just before, you said I was amazing. You weren’t referring to sex? Did I get it up?”
“Oh, gosh, no.” She brings a hand to her face like she’s trying to hide. I notice again how cute she is. “We didn’t even try. We talked for hours.” Now, she’s smiling, clearly pleased with the memory. “You were really upset.”
“I was?” Fuck, what did I tell her? “About what?”
“Oh, about everything, I guess.”
I half laugh. “What’s that mean?”
She sits up and leans toward me. “Your life, mostly.” She must see my frown and hurries on to the next part. “But, hey, it’s okay. I don’t think you gave up any deep, dark secrets.” Another becoming smile. “I know you’re a frustrated musician. And that your dad is a real piece of work.”
I nod and rest my head back against the recliner. “Yeah, I guess those aren’t deep, dark secrets. Just general life shit, right?”
“Yeah, we all have our own fair share of it.” She falls silent, but her hands are twisting together. Something’s up.
“Is there more?” I brace myself for the worst.
“Well, you were also really worried about your friend. Maybe now that you’re up and sober, you can call her? See if she’s okay?”
My head snaps back up and I groan. “I talked to you about Dawn?”
“Oh, Dawn, is that her name? I had trouble making it out.” She nods and bites her lip. It’s starting to bother me that I don’t know her name. “Umm, yeah, but by then it was getting hard to understand you. You were slurring your words pretty bad. I just got the impression that you were worried about her.”
I get the impression she’s not telling me everything. That she understood more of what I said than she’s letting on. Time to change the subject.
“So, tell me… if we didn’t do it, how did we wind up in bed together?” I look at my t-shirt draped over nice-sized breasts and slim body intently, and find that I’m enjoying looking at her.
She laughs that little embarrassed laugh again. “Well… before I knew I was going to stay overnight, I just wanted to get you into bed, figuring you were about ready to pass out. But when I finally got you there, you grabbed my arm and pulled me down with you.”
“And then we got naked and didn’t have sex?” I grunt a half laugh. “Are you screwing with me?”
She breaks into a wide smile that shows every tooth she’s got. “No, really, I’m not. We laid there, side by side, talking. At some point, you tugged off your clothes and buried yourself under the covers. We talked for a little while longer but you were drifting off by then.” She picks up a glass of water and takes a sip. “I took off my clothes and put on one of your t-shirts.”
My brow raises. “And then?”
“And then we went to sleep. We, ahhh… spooned. It was nice.”
We spooned? I can’t remember ever spooning with anyone.
“Hey, I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“This is kind of embarrassing. I don’t know your name.”
“Ahhh, that’s okay. It’s Angie.”
I smile. That is so perfect. “Angie… Angie…” I sing, “you can’t say we never tried…”
She finishes the line. “But ain’t it time we say goodbye… Rolling Stones. Great song.”
I lean forward, resting my arms on my thighs. “Look, Angie. I’m really sorry I don’t remember any of this. It actually sounds like a great evening.”
“Like I said, it was amazing. You’re a pretty cool guy, Fringe Shaw. But I really should get going.”
She goes to the bedroom then comes out dressed and starts gathering her things, taking the glass she used to the kitchen sink. I watch her as she moves around my apartment like she belongs here.
Besides feeling like hungover crap, I’m feeling true regret. I do wish I could remember. She has a spark about her like she’s got her shit together. I need to stall or, at least, figure out a way to run into her again.
“Hey, Angie… where did we meet last night?”
“The Stumble Inn.” She glances back at me with a wink while she rinses her glass. “For a while there, you kept saying, anywhere but Lucifer’s.”
I chuckle, raising my eyes to the ceiling. It’s the last thing I remember from last night. “Hey, uhh…” I seem to have lost the ability to put a decent sentence together. “Maybe we… I mean… you and me…”
She walks over and places a chaste kiss on my cheek. “I already programmed my phone number into your cell.” She straightens and looks down at me with the sweetest smile. “Catch ya on the flip side, Fringe.”
Then she’s gone, leaving my apartment before I can say anything else.
I stare at the closed door for a long time, my thoughts in a turmoil, and my apartment feeling much emptier than usual.
I think I like this girl.
Why?
What is it about her?
She’s a redhead. A cool, age-appropriate redhead.
Go figure.
But what about Dawn?