The Sun in My Eyes

42 Morning Light, It Stings a Little

Whisky bad. Bobby mostly alive. Spoon in the pool. Two villas become one. Kest Lavie.

***

Consciousness came on like a wild animal clawing at Bobby's head.

He moaned and curled into a ball, but the animal dug its rear claws into his stomach. And then everywhere else. Fuck. He straightened out and pressed his head to the soggy pillow. It was soaked in sweat. He hoped. The sheets were so damp he wasn't entirely convinced that he hadn't pished himself in the night. He reached down and felt around his crotch area, but his pyjama bottoms weren't anymore wet than the rest of him. That was a relief.

He tried to open his eyes, but sharp pain kept them closed. Groaning, he rolled onto his belly and crawled onto all fours, but he couldn't lift his head. It felt like it weighed seven stone. He stayed like that, willing the pain to subside. After a few minutes, he raised his head and forced his crusty eyes open. Sunlight from the picture window roared straight into his brain and blinded him. "Fuuuuuuck," he whimpered, shutting them again.

Clearly, he'd had a little too much to drink. Maybe more than a little. He tried to remember the night. He'd been outside. Yelling at Noah? Was that right? He sank down onto his folded thighs. He couldn't remember how he got from outside to inside. And into his sleep clothes.

"Gotta get up," he muttered. He raised his head and gave opening his eyes another try. He did it, but goddamn it hurt. The bedroom was empty. He sat up and the simple movement jarred his dehydrated brain. If his eyeballs weren't already in agony, he would have cried.

Laughter drifted into the room and it sounded like needles scraping against razors. Shannon, Blake, and Amber rushed in, speaking quietly, but even their quiet voices grated his sensitive ears.

"Has Noah said anything to you about switching?" Shannon asked.

"No," Blake said. "I don't know that he will."

"Did you give him a little..." Amber trailed off.

"No. We had a cuddle. That's all."

"I told you last night, if you want him, you've got to make him want you," Amber huffed. "Boys are dogs. If they're not panting, they're not excited enough." She cast a sleek smile at Shannon. "This girl is definitely staying. I heard them going at it last night."

Blake gasped at Shannon. "Did you really?"

Shannon shrugged, her face giving away nothing.

"Well, I—" Amber paused as Emily padded into the room on bare feet. Her face was puffy, her eyes swollen, and her platinum hair was pulled into a careless bun with ratty strands sticking up everywhere. She was a pretty girl, but she looked almost as awful as he felt. She caught his eye and flushed before looking away.

What was that about? He squinted and swore under his breath at the pain. He could vaguely recall sitting with Emily and talking about... nail varnish?

Amber raised a delighted eyebrow and spoke loudly to Shannon, sending gnawing pain through Bobby's head. "Jakub is definitely switching. He's practically in love with me already."

Shannon didn't look convinced. "Did he actually say that?"

"Well not precisely, but last night we..." she cupped her hand over Shannon's ear and whispered something that made the redhead gasp. "And he said I was the best he ever had."

Emily stared at Amber. She didn't even look upset. Just exhausted. "Congratulations. I hope he treats you better than he treats other women."

"He will." Amber smirked. "I'm an expensive steak dinner, not a Tesco chicken meal deal."