With Rylie confirming his mother’s opinion on Trevor’s shyness, Reed didn't want him to be uncomfortable tonight. He would change his plans and move slow, like his gut told him to do. It didn’t appear Trevor ever came out to anyone besides him last night. He suspected most military men didn’t let too many people know, out of concern for their jobs. He grabbed his car keys while forming a mental shopping list. There were a few hours to kill before the date, and he needed to have everything just right.
****
“Oh fuck,” Trevor groaned, turning over only to stop in mid-roll. The movement along with the sound of his own voice pounded through his head. It took a full minute for Trevor to realize something woke him other than the nonstop pain shooting through his brain. It took another full minute to decide if he cared what it might be until he heard Brody letting out a string of obscenities.
“Damn, man, what the fuck did you do to your bathroom? You tore that shit apart.” Opening one eye, Trevor slowly raised his head to see Brody coming from his bathroom to stand over the bed. Brody was up and dressed, looking pretty much ready to take on the world. It didn’t surprise Trevor; Brody partied hard all the time.
“What time is it?” Trevor croaked. His one opened eye went back to its preferred position: closed.
“Late. It’s two in the afternoon. I gotta get these women out of the house before Elise shows. I was just checkin’ on you. You just disappeared last night.” Brody picked up the glass of water, handing it and several aspirin to Trevor. “Looks like someone hooked you up, bro.”
Trevor rose on his elbow to swallow the water and aspirin, staying perfectly still, waiting to see if his stomach would cooperate in keeping everything down. Satisfied, he gently laid his head back on the pillow, hoping the intense throbbing might magically come to an end. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Brody pick up a piece of paper.
“What's this shit about? What the fuck happened last night?”
Brody’s voice pierced his brain. A whole new round of pain shot through Trevor, and he flopped back, shielding his eyes with his arm. Brief images of girls and lap dances filled his mind, making him sicker over that than what he appeared to have done the night before. Things were just too hazy in his mind. “You didn’t bring me home?”
“Nah, man, but it looks like someone else did.” A none too subtle sneer caused Trevor to lower his arm to watch Brody flip a piece of paper onto the bed. Then Brody reached down and yanked the bed spread away from Trevor’s body.
“You're naked. You never sleep naked. What the hell happened last night?” Brody demanded.
For the first time in his life, Trevor didn't care if someone saw him in the buff. He just needed the throbbing to stop, and that meant Brody needed to shut the fuck up. Rolling to the side of the bed, Trevor lifted, sitting there for a second while assessing his body’s current situation. A loud beep jarred him. He squinted, looking up at Brody. “Take your girls home. Check me later. I have no clue how I got here. Shit, my stomach...just go, man.” Trevor stood in front of Brody, dropping his hands down to cover himself but let his bare ass show. He walked to the dresser, picked up his phone, and stopped the offending beeping. Thankfully, Brody finally made to leave the room. He didn’t say a word, but kept his eyes pinned on Trevor, looking as if Trevor had suddenly grown two heads overnight.
Trevor took the phone, and inched back to bed. He crawled back under the covers before opening the text message to the unknown number.
‘Good afternoon, Trevor. I hope you’re feeling better this afternoon. I wanted to make sure we’re still on for tonight. I'm looking forward to spending time with you. Reed.’
Scanning the words with little interest, Trevor closed his eyes only to have them pop back open. Trevor sprang forward, coming to a quick sitting position. Ignoring the pain the sudden movement caused, he racked his brain over what may have happened the night before. Strippers, lap dances, and Reed just didn’t fit together no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t even remember seeing Reed last night. Panic gripped his heart, and he sent Rylie a quick text asking how he got home.
His pain became second to the fear of what he may have done. Trevor rose from bed and wobbled to the bathroom, frowning when he got to the door. The bathroom looked like a disaster zone. Pushing towel rods and a toilet seat cover aside with his feet, Trevor reached the sink and splashed cold water on his face. After brushing the fuzz from his teeth, he again doused his face, as if the water would give him insight to his missing chunk of time. Nothing came to him as he toweled himself off. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he headed back into the bedroom where he saw a note lying on his bed for the first time. His eyes focused immediately on Reed’s signature.
Hesitantly, he picked up the letter, reading it closely. Nothing made sense. Trevor plopped on the end of the bed when the phone alerted an incoming text. Rylie’s reply didn’t help in giving him any clues.
‘Not real sure, buddy. I talked to Reed this morning. What did you do last night? He wouldn't say.’
Trevor racked his brain as he dropped back on his bed. He lay there several minutes, looking at the rotating ceiling fan, willing himself to come up with something. When that failed, he decided not to respond to Rylie’s text, because really what could he say? He returned to the bathroom to examine its torn up state. Some of the repair would require a trip to the hardware store. He found his clothes folded on the sink which absolutely didn’t make any sense, given how everything else was trashed. He dug through them for clues but came up empty-handed.