Sweet Nothing: Novel

I stood tall, exasperated. “Why not? We’re obviously not good for each other, Josh. What the hell were we thinking?”


He carefully navigated the gravel under his tender feet, breathing hard when he finally made it to the Dodge. He pushed on the hood to support some of his weight, his breaths puffing out in quick, transparent clouds.

“That I love you,” he panted. “I love you, and I wouldn’t do that.” He pointed up toward Ginger’s upstairs apartment. “It never crossed my mind. All I think about is you. Do you hear me, Avery? There is no one else. There will never be anyone else. You can shove that necklace down my throat and laugh while I choke on it, and I still wouldn’t run out to fuck someone else. The only thing that will make me feel better …” He panted, his face tinged with a pale shade of green. “… is you.”

He shook his head, grabbing his knees as he tried to catch his breath, and then he heaved, expelling everything in his stomach.

“Jesus,” I said, watching the liquor and whatever else splatter on the ground.

He heaved again, and I awkwardly patted his back.

A creaky, dirty yellow cab pulled into the parking lot, the tires crunching against the gravel. The window rolled down and I smiled, surprised.

“Mel!”

“I thought you might need another ride.”

“I’m sober. I’m giving him the ride.”

Josh glanced up to see the wrinkled veteran staring down at him with a frown and then heaved again. “You’re taking me home?” Josh asked.

I reached into my pocket, giving Mel the money I owed him.

Mel narrowed his eyes. “What’s that?” he rasped.

“The money I owe you. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long.”

He waved me away, unimpressed.

“Please,” I said, holding out the bill.

He snatched it out of my hand. “You sure you don’t need a ride? You might need a chaperone with this one.”

Ginger ran out in a robe and fuzzy boots, carrying his pants, hoodie, and wallet. “We didn’t do anything!” she yelled across the parking lot. “Don’t leave!” When she reached us, she noticed the puddle of vomit on the ground and made a face, holding the backs of her fingers to her nose. “Oh, gross. I’m so sorry. I knew better than to let him drink that much.”

Josh made another hurling sound and more liquid came up.

“How much did he drink?” I asked, helping to steady him.

“I’d have to look at his tab. Pretty sure he spent his whole paycheck.”

“Pussy,” Mel grumbled, lifting up his hat and then pulling it back down. He pulled his shifter down. “You still got my card, sweetheart?”

“Still got it,” I said with a smile.

Mel pulled away and Josh vomited again, this time leaning so far over he almost fell face-first into the puddle below.

“Damn it, Josh,” I scolded him, rubbing my palm against the tensed muscles of his back.

His arm shot out and he held my leg, spitting and groaning.

“Avery,” Ginger said. I looked up at her. “We didn’t. I couldn’t let him drive. I did pull off his jeans because he’d spilled a shot on them and they stunk and I didn’t want it on my sheets. But if you go upstairs and look, you’ll see that I’d made me a pallet on the couch.”

I looked at Josh, unconvinced.

“I know how he feels about you,” Ginger said. “I wouldn’t do that to him.”

“And,” Josh said, still bent over.

Ginger smiled and rolled her eyes, handing me his things. “And Michaels tried to persuade him several times that she was ready if he was willing, and he made it clear he was only going home with you.”

“You’re a good boy after all,” I said, running my hand over his back in a small circle.

He swallowed. “Yes, but if you keep doing that, I’m going to puke again.”

“Sorry,” I said, grabbing his arm and reaching around his back to guide him.

“Where are we going?” Josh asked.

“I’m taking you home,” I said, walking him to the passenger side of my car.

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