Out of Town: A Spot Conlon Story

XVII

Now I am just standing here with a drunk boy around my waist. Why do I care so much about this wasted toddler? I practically drag him down the stairs paying attention to my ankle to make sure I do not put too much pressure on it. We finally make it to the ground level where I am being presented with two options: either go through the crowd of creepy men or walk though the alley and go through the back door. I opt for the second option because it seems easier on my ankle. Going through the front entrance I am immediately greeted with the cold air and wolf whistles. Gross. I would usually just let it roll off my back, but Spot seems to have a problem with this man now. He takes it upon himself to let go of my waist and start to yell at the man in the direction of the wolf whistle. I can tell they are yelling at each other but the words are inaudible. Also, it isn't that I don't believe Spot could win a fight with a man, but this man is double his size and Spot is incredibly intoxicated. I walk over to where they are yelling at each other and I can see some fist in the air. Usually I wouldn't step in the middle of a drunken fight but it's a new city, I guess.

I am now looking at Spot and I give him an earful, "You are not fit to fight, you can barely walk. I understand you want to 'defend' me or whatever. But I don't need saving right now. Right now you need a glass of water. Let's go!" I say grabbing his list and running as fast as my ankle will let me run down the alleyway. I make it to the back door and I give it a knock. As I left my keys in the room, and the door is always locked on show nights. Haley opens the door looking at the situation and judging me.

"Haley, you did a great job" I say trying to suck up to her so she doesn't tell Medda about this. She did do a good job too, so that helps.

He nods, "thank you, just don't be too noisy". Yep if course she thinks we are going to have sex. Can't anyone see that I am just trying to make sure he doesn't die of alcohol poisoning. I decide to not explain myself fully and just give a flimsy excuse and start to walk to my room. I throw him on a fluffy chair in the middle of the room. Like someone giving a dog a command I tell him to stay while I go fill up a pitcher of water. Walking back into the room I see that he ignored me and is snooping around in my closet. I clear my voice to make my presence known, but once again that doesn't work. So, I set the pitcher down and fill a glass of water and though it on his back. He turns around very quickly and loses his balance and falls to the floor.

"What's Wass dass fors" he slurs in his heavy Brooklyn accent. I just find it progress that I can understand him now.

Again, ignoring his question I decide to hand him a glass of water and tell him to drink up. But as he does that I am given another dilemma. I need to change. Since this room used to be a dressing room it luckily has a privacy divider. I walk behind that and begin to take off my show outfit and put on some undergarments. After that is complete I just put on a slip and go to check on Spot again. His blue eyes are still staring at the area where I just changed. This is when I realized it is backlit and he could see me changing. What a gentleman! He will probably forget about it in the morning though.

"Drink more of that water." I say and he begins to hydrate himself. It is then I realized that his shirt became see through after I threw the water on him. I notice his muscles protruding out of his back. I have to peel my eyes away to fill up his glass some more.

"I'se tired" Spot finally says

"Me too" I go up to climb into my bed and attempt to fall asleep. The noise from upstairs is extremely loud and will probably keep me up until close. I sigh, but this is when we realize that Spot begins to climb into bed with me. Although I enjoy cuddling, he is not about to cuddle with me after his behavior. Tonight, even though I do like him, I still have some standards. "No Spot, you can sleep on the chair, down there."

"But you'se sleeps wit me in Brooklyn" he tries to rebuttal in his drunken state.

"But I wasn't drunk" he simply nods and gets on the floor. Of course I feel bad, but if I make an exception once I'll keep making it. Stay strong (Y/N) you got this. He probably won't do this again though, so what's the harm in a drunken cuddle. Am I caving, yes. "Get up here, Spot. Just don't do this again"

Even in the darkness of the room I can tell he is smiling. Even if he is drunk I can tell he feels bad already. At least I hope so. Why am I always making an exemption for this boy? He climbs under the covers and immediately wraps his protective arms around me and it feels right. He is drunk he won't remember this anyway, "I don't know why I like you Spot, but I do and even though you are drunk I don't want this moment to end" I say turning around into his bare chest. When did he take off his shirt? It doesn't matter really.

He simply combs my hair, and says, "Me too".

He can't mean that, he's drunk. Or can he?