Page 51 of Vincent
Closing his eyes, Vincent leaned his head back and felt as if he was a hundred years old. "She's been in love with me since we were teenagers. She was my best friend in high school."
He opened his eyes and stared vacantly across the room. At least it was no longer spinning with him. "I was into her-" He smiled crookedly. "She was smart and completely fearless and defended me against some very mean bullies. We were inseparable."
"I wanted to be more than her best friend, but she never gave me any indication that she wanted more. Even in college, I waited." He leaned his head back and felt the pressure on his chest. "She never said anything. It could have been so different, but she never said anything and now she's telling me-"
He sat up. "I think I'm going to puke."
Chapter 12
Disturbing dreams chased him throughout the night. Vivid dreams of him and Thea. More recollections than anything else. Her riding on his back, her small breasts making imprints on his skin even through the shirt. Ones where she dared him to jump into the freezing cold water of the lake near his home. And how much he had been affected seeing her nipples printing through the thin shirt she had on.
Also, one of them in her bedroom studying for finals and her changing out of her clothing right in front of him, in nothing but her underwear.
And yet she never said anything. He moaned in his sleep, turning restlessly from side to side. He woke up in the middle of another dream, sweat coating his entire body.
*****
He surfaced at six the next morning feeling as if someone was pounding inside his head with a drill. And sick to his stomach. He recalled retching most of his stomach lining out last night. He also vaguely recalled Jackson dunking his head beneath the ice-cold water to sober him up but had no idea when the man left.
At some point during the night, he had gotten up to change his clothing, at least he hoped to Christ that it had been him who undressed himself. He was humiliated enough without adding that element to the entire situation.
Sitting up carefully, he turned his head and caught sight of a fresh pot of coffee and a bottle of painkillers. Whimpering with relief, he poured a full cup and downed half of it before dumping four pills into his palm and swallowing them dry. Filling the cup again, he sipped it this time, savoring the richness of the brew. He supposed he owed his friend a debt of gratitude. And wondered how much he had revealed in his inebriated state.
He had never gotten drunk to the point where he lost track of time before. This was a first for him, he mused grimly. Taking a deep breath, he put away the cup and realized that the headache had been downgraded to minimal.
He would call down for some breakfast, he decided, glancing at the bedside clock. Or just go down. This early in the morning, there wouldn't be anybody much up and about, and frankly, he wasn't in the mood for company. Swinging his legs off the bed, he stood still for a minute and waited for the room to right itself before heading toward the bathroom.
*****
"I see you're not looking the worse for wear," Jackson greeted him with a grin as he slid out the chair across from him and sat. Gesturing to the hovering waiter, he ordered fresh coffee and croissants. "How's the head?"
"The pounding has lessened considerably," Vincent told him with a grimace as he buttered scones. "A reminder to lessen my alcohol intake." He eyed the other man. "Did you change my clothes?"
"Christ, no!"
Vincent grinned at the vehement denial. "Good. I was wondering if I would be able to look you in the eye this morning."
"Look away, my friend." He nodded to the waiter who brought over the meal. "Your self-respect is still intact."
"That remains to be seen," Vincent said dryly. He sipped coffee before posing the troubling question. "How much did I spill?"
Jackson grinned wickedly. "Afraid you revealed your deepest, darkest secrets?"
"Something like that. Well?"
"You spoke a mouthful about Thea."
"I was afraid of that. What exactly did I say?"
Jackson buttered scones and eyed the man curiously. "Christ, you were that far gone? You mentioned something about her not telling you she was in love with you and that you were into her and how things could have been different. Then you had to rush into the bathroom to puke. It was disgusting."
"I recall you dumping ice-cold water on my head."
"The only solution I could think of."
"Thanks for that and the pot of coffee as well as the pills. They made a big difference."
"As much as I hate to pry, you owe me that much. The last time I saw you, which was oh, say two months ago, you were still mourning Lizzie. I take it that's changed now?"
