Ugh.
The band of my bra digs into my side as I roll again.Why did I wear my bra to bed anyway?Carefully, I lever myself off the mattress and take baby steps toward the door to my room, which is wide open.
Since I live alone, it doesn’t matter, but on the rare occasion Brandy crashes here, I usually close it. A peek through the doorway of the spare bedroom shows that it’s empty, but she obviously hasn’t learned how to make a bed yet.
Not surprising.
My purse is on the floor near the inside of the door that leads down to the bar, which I’m thankful I apparently had the presence of mind to lock.
The ringing coming from my purse stops right before I pull my phone out, but starts again a second later.
Hope.
Seeing her name on my screen starts jogging my memory.
White Horse Saloon.
Last night.
Lots of booze.
“Hey, sorry, I was still asleep,” I say.
“I was five minutes from having the cops to come break into your place. You scared the hell out of me. I’ve been calling on and off all freaking night.”
Squinting at the clock on the microwave in my tiny galley kitchen, I see it’s not even seven thirty.
“It’s still early. What’s going on?” I head for the cupboard where I keep the Advil, because I doubt the drum line in my head is going to succumb to much else.
“Early? It’s late! I didn’t want to go to bed until I got an answer from you. I’ve been up all night. The bar was insane last night after Boone Thrasher left. Zane Frisco stayed and played two more sets of his own shit.”
Boone Thrasher.
At his name, the bottle of Advil falls from my hands, the top pops off, and the small brown pills fly everywhere.
“Hey! You okay?”
“Uh. Yeah, sorry. Dropped the Advil.”
“You’re gonna have to fill me in because when I finally made it back to your end of the bar, you were gone. Joanie said security hustled you out the back door with Boone Thrasher, and you just disappeared. I didn’t get a call or text or anything. What happened?”
My memories of last night are as scattered as the pills on my floor.
“Nothing,” I tell her, even though I know it’s a lie.
“So you just walked out the back and went your separate ways? I figured you would’ve read him the riot act for getting you caught up in his shit. I know how you are with those guys.”
Bythose guys,she means the celebrity types. Have I always been such a bitch about it? After picking three pills up off the floor, I shove them in my mouth and swallow them dry.
“It wasn’t a big deal. It was time for me to go anyway.” I make my way through the kitchen around the mess, vowing I’ll clean it up when bending over doesn’t make me want to hurl, and head back to the bedroom.
What exactly did happen?
The fractured dreams floating around in my head starring Boone are all just dreams, aren’t they? I would never ...
“You sure? I was worried about you, girl.”
That’s when I see the condom wrappers scattered on my bedroom floor.