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Chapter 8: Jesus Lives In Brooklyn.
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"Hey," I greet him once I opened the door.
He lifts the box in his hand and smiles, "I got this from Ken, mind if I take a look?"
"Sure." I smile at him and Faye sneaks past us, "I'll let you help her, I need to work the entire yacht." she tells Theo, "Here," she shoves a Vodka bottle towards me, "Don't say I didn't help you."
I take the bottle and laugh, "How dare I?" I make way for Theo to enter the cabin and close the door behind him, "I hope you don't mind closing the door, I'm not in the mood to be photographed and turned into a meme."
"No worries," he turns towards me and gestures to the bed, "Have a seat."
I sit and he sits next to me, really close.
Okay, if I'm gonna survive his intoxicating smell and the heat that's coming in waves from his body, I need some liquid courage in me.
I unscrew the bottle of Vodka, "You're not gonna pour that on your wound, I hope?"
"No," I chuckle, "It's for me." I assure him and take a gulp, "I need something to calm me." I screw the bottle again as the familiar burn runs through my throat and the bitter taste hits home.
