“Well, my team wasn’t very good at beer pong,” I said.
He laughed again. “Sure. That’s the excuse that we’ll go with.”
“What happened last night?” I asked. “All I remember is being there with you guys and meeting Quentin’s friend Cole. I know we played darts and beer pong. But all of that is kind of fuzzy. What else happened?”
“You mean before or after Cole caught you two making out in the hallway by the bathroom?” Brandon asked
“Oh, no,” I said. “Are you serious? Did that actually happen, or are you just trying it to get a rise out of me?”
I knew the answer. There was no other reason he would be taunting me for having the hots for my boss. I obviously hadn’t told him about any of the feelings I thought I might be having toward Quentin, and I hadn’t said or done anything to even suggest it as far as I knew.
“I didn’t see it for myself, but you sure came running back fast, and when Cole came back in because he forgot his wallet and you were back in the bathroom with Olivia, he had a story to tell,” Brandon said.
I groaned, covering my face with my hands. It wasn’t enough. I wanted to bury my head in some sand somewhere and not come out for a while. But since there was no sand around anywhere, I would have to settle for the couch. Setting my mug down on the counter with a thud, I went into the living room and toppled over face-first onto the cushions.
“Oh, no. I can’t believe I did that. How could I do that?” I lamented into the pillows.
“It’s all right,” Brandon said.
I felt him come to the side of the couch and sit down on the edge of the cushions. He patted my back.
“No, it’s not,” I said, shaking my head but not lifting it. “I made out with my boss in the back of a grimy bar.”
“It’s not that grimy of a bar,” he said.
“Does that make a difference about me making out with him?” I asked.
“Well, no. I was just trying to make you feel better.”
“It didn’t work. What the fuck am I going to do?” I asked, the sudden realization that I might have just ruined my career popping up in my mind.
“Relax, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Chalk it up to a drunken mistake and get over it. If you don’t make a big deal over it, I bet he won’t either,” Brandon said.
I nodded and then buried my face back in the cushions.
Brandon laughed and patted me on the back.
“You made fun of me while I was hungover,” I said, my voice muffled.
“I know. I’m your big brother, it’s my job. But I’m sorry. How about some breakfast?” he asked.
Flopping over onto my side and dragging in a breath, I nodded.
“Something greasy,” I said.
Brandon smiled, and for a moment I saw my carefree big brother again. I was hoping to see more of him, to really have my brother all the way back soon. He was always going to have some of the quirks—they were just part of him—but I’d like to see him relax some. Working at Freeman could really help that. A less intense work environment could help him feel more comfortable and put him in a better mindset.
He headed into the kitchen and started cooking as I reached for the remote. Turning on the TV, I found it wasn’t actually morning anymore. I’d managed to sleep my way into the afternoon, and I didn’t feel an ounce bad about it. In fact, I was going to sleep more if I got the chance.
I’d watched almost a full episode of a delightfully trashy live court show when my brother came back out of the kitchen with a tray heaping with food and a bottle of pain reliever. That marked the beginning of my day not leaving the couch except to go to the bathroom.
By the time Brandon was cooking dinner, I felt better enough to realized I hadn’t checked in on Olivia yet. According to my brother, she was still at the bar when he’d poured me into the back of a car and brought me home. Since I hadn’t gotten even so much as a text from her, I was starting to worry. Fortunately, the worry was for nothing. She answered in a groggy voice, and I knew she was dealing with the same head full of lead and cotton I was.
“You doing okay?” I asked.
“If by okay you mean alive, then yes,” she said.
“I’ll take it. Brandon tells me you stayed at the bar after we left.”
“Do you remember the cute bartender?”
“Vaguely. I mean, I remember there was a bartender. And that you talked to him a lot. So, yeah, I guess,” I said.