More beers appeared and I got drinking again. People kept moving around; every time I looked up someone else had slid in next to me. Guys from the band.
Girls.
Then some girl ended up in my lap. American girl, visiting from California. Blonde. She’d been at the show tonight. Met the band backstage, or so she said.
I didn’t remember that part.
Then I was in a limo with Dylan and Amber, Matt, and Jesse Mayes. Jesse’s wife, Katie wasn’t there; she was pregnant and maybe she’d gone back to the hotel after the show? I couldn’t remember.
When we got back to the hotel, there was a party in Dylan’s hotel suite. The blonde girl from the bar was there. She pulled me into the bathroom.
Or maybe… I pulled her?
Fuckingblurry.
I had her bent over the bathroom counter, her skirt up, panties down, and my dick out before I stopped myself.
Not Courteney.
Jesus… Everything was fucking muddy as shit.
But I was thinking about her. I was thinking about Courteney and fucking someone else.
No—I wasn’t fucking anyone.
I did up my jeans and pushed my way out of the bathroom, through the party. I was wandering the halls, trying to find my room. I had the little envelope with the key card in my pocket, with the room number written on it.
Fucking searching.
Then Lucas found me and steered me in the right direction.
I made myself drink more water in my hotel room. I made myself take a cold shower. Sober up a bit before I went to bed.
But then I sat up, on the couch. Just fucking staring out over the dark city, the old buildings, until the sun started coming up.
It took that long, maybe, for my brain to start working again… and for me to realize how fully fucked-up this was.
I woke up later, on the floor next to the couch, with Dean knocking on my door. Hungover. The sun was up and he was leaving for Madrid.
I hugged him, said goodbye. I didn’t know when I’d see him again. He had no return flight booked to head back home.
Neither did I.
What the fuck was I doing?
I booked a flight home, the first one I could get, for later that night. Booked one for Lucas, too. Then I scraped my shit together, went to find him and get a coffee.
I managed to take a walk with Matt and Jesse; we ate at some little restaurant along the way. So at least I saw that much of Portugal. Then I headed to the airport with Lucas to wait for our flight.
And while I sat there, I convinced myself I could deal with this problem. I just had to deal with itbetter.
I just had to find someone else to fuck. That was all.
Someone else to hold my interest.
Maybe if I fucked her enough, I’d stop thinking about Courteney Clarke.
Maybe get myself a girlfriend?