Of Kings and Aces

11| Origami Menagerie

I woke up Monday morning with a massive headache and only a vague memory of my birthday weekend. All I know was that Saturday at Camachile Sky was epic and yesterday, even though it was a Sunday, was spent swimming in alcohol with college friends at The Penthouse, a fancy loft on top of a condominium. I don't know how I got to my condo in my drunken state. My pants were nowhere in sight but I wasn't naked, thank god. I still had my shirt and boxers on.

The smell of coffee crept into my room as I desperately racked my foggy brain. Someone was brewing coffee in my kitchen. 

I hope it's the Ethiopian beans she's brewing.

But then I remembered that I lived alone. And that's when it hit me: who the hell did I take home?

This confused me since I had stopped taking women to my condo when Justin started sleeping over. I had re-arranged and refurnished an area to accommodate the kid and I ended up answering so many questions about it. Some found it sweet and cute, others found me disgusting for still sleeping around when I had a child. But explaining shit that did not need to be aired was becoming exhausting. It was not my story to tell. Plus those diabolical Lego pieces were outstanding cockblockers. So I just decided to not take anyone back to my place once and for all.

To answer my question, the bathroom door opened and produced my half-naked guest, baring the huge tattoo on the left side of his chest. My jaw dropped to the floor.

"Nice place you got, Ace, very child-friendly," he said drying his hair. "You have a son?"

"No. It's for Cara's son," I answered, still confused at his presence. "What're you --"

"You have a son with Cara? How is Jaxx taking it?" he almost shouted from shock, the incredulity of it all made me laugh in spite of my headache.

"No, you idiot! Of course, it's not my child with Cara. Are you out of my mind? I would not do that to Jaxx. And with Cara? Really? That's gross. She's like my sister," I shuddered at the thought. "And Brigs? Stop walking around with only a towel, please. It's disconcerting."

"You know, I never quite understood your aversion to half-naked men. It's not a big deal, dude. You see guys without shirts all the time – in the beach, in the locker room, by the pool. But when it's out of the shower, you're 'disconcerted'. What's the deal?"

"It's just unsightly, all right?"

"Does this have something to do with that thing back in college?" he asked as opened my cabinet looking for something. I didn't answer him.

"My shirts won't fit you anymore, you're bulkier than I am," I looked away, afraid he might just strip without warning.

"I'm bigger too," he chuckled which made me roll my eyes.

"That's not what she said," I scoffed, beating him to his punch line. "How did we end up here anyway? I barely remember shit, dude."

"You got really wasted and Jaxx said to take you here because you guys had work today. Told me you'd better not be late, though, from the looks of it, you already are," he smirked. He was right, it was already eight-thirty and I didn't want to move out of the kitchen.

"I can never catch a break with him around," I groaned. "Maybe I should send him back to Philadelphia for a couple more years. Why wasn't he the one who drove me here?"

He looked at me like I had grown a third head, his dark brown almond eyes narrowed. "You didn't want him to."

"What? That's ridiculous! Why would I... was he also drunk?"