Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I pressed Call and ended up on my back. Julian was probably in the living room. I could hear someone moving around, so maybe the furniture had been delivered.
"Oh, good! You haven't forgotten how to use the phone," Sophie said as she answered.
I held my forehead, wincing. "Too early for humor. What's up?"
"Nothing much. Just my daily check-in to see if you're alive. And two in the afternoon isn't early for those of us who don't live on booze."
Ouch. That one hurt, but I supposed I needed to hear it. This couldn’t go on. I'd slept away half the day.
"I'm alive," I muttered groggily. "I should go help Julian with the furniture."
She hummed then stopped abruptly. "Wait, Julian's staying with you?"
"Yeah." I dragged myself up, my feet thudding against the floorboards. "He got here yesterday. Looks like he's sticking around a while, so we ordered a bunch of shit."
"That’s great!" she gushed. "Holy hell, you have no idea how relieved I am to hear that." It sounded like she was getting emotional. "I was worried about him at the service. I'm glad he turned to you. I think you can be good together. You're going through the same pain, so maybe you can, like, help each other heal and move on?"
Her rambling was cute, but it wasn't helping my headache. Or my conscience. I had to be the shittiest friend in history. My buddies cared a lot for me, and I was doing absolutely nothing to show my appreciation.
"Yeah, it might be good," I said to appease her. "Focus on your vacation, hon. We'll be fine."
After wrapping up the call, I stumbled to the bathroom across the hall. I downed a couple painkillers and cringed at my reflection. Looked like I'd shower today too, as if I were a normal, functioning human being. 'Cause I couldn’t show myself to anyone looking like death warmed over.
I turned on the shower and then took a leak while waiting for the water to heat up.
My skin was sensitive, another symptom of bad habits I needed to shake. Everything hurt. My mood shifted too fucking fast. I was determined one second, then ready to throw in the towel in the next. And as I showered, I warred with myself, 'cause it all boiled down to the goddamn alcohol. I had to get rid of it completely, at least for a while, and I had to do it while my mood allowed it.
It had been my crutch for a month now. Enough was enough. Quitting was already gonna be painful, so the last thing I needed was to drag it out.
Turning off the water, I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my hips. The bed called, but I wouldn't cave that fast. An uphill battle was supposed to burn, so let it begin.
I brushed my teeth and hoped most of last night's bender was gone. I knew what whiskey smelled like the day after. Applying some deodorant and aftershave—even though I hadn't shaved—I left the bathroom and walked down the hall, only to come to a stop when I reached the living room.
Jesus Christ.
I didn't recognize the place. Julian must've had help. Maybe he'd checked the box for having the delivery guys help assemble everything. A few dressers and shelves were still stacked in the hallway, though the living room looked perfect to me.
"Morning." I passed the seating area first. New couch, two chairs, a low coffee table. Even a rug. I'd missed that. Old met new, mismatched colors that still fit. "I didn't know you were an interior designer."
Julian popped up from the floor where he'd been putting together the last of the dining room chairs. "I'm not. This is literally taken straight off two pages in their online catalogue."
I let out a low laugh and glanced around me. "All right, but Pottery Barn ain't getting my thanks. This is all you, kid."
An ancient-looking wooden chest had been placed behind the couch. The lid was open, and I saw Julian had put the photo albums from Pittsburgh in there. Good place for memories.
Julian shrugged, ducked his head, and pushed in the chair at the table. "We didn't wake you up, did we? The movers left a little while ago."
"No." I couldn’t stop taking it all in. It was a bit overwhelming 'cause…goddamn, he'd turned my loft into a home. I had to step up my game. "This is fucking incredible, Julian."
He flashed a quick grin. "I'm glad you like it, but you have to tell me if I've overstepped any boundaries."
"No overstepping whatsoever." I had an urge to hug him, but I pushed that aside for now. I didn't wanna make shit awkward. "Let me get dressed and then I'll order us some food." I was starving, having not eaten much yesterday, and I had an idea I wanted to run by him.