Page 32 of War
Amantha laughed. “You're drunk. Proposition me when you're sober.”
That sobered me almost instantly. “Really?”
She laughed again. “You won't remember any of this in the morning. Good night, Mr. Blackwell.”
Amantha disconnected the call.
How did she know my last name? More importantly, was she serious?
I passed out with that question spinning in my mind.
Chapter 16
In pain, I rested my forehead against the surface of my desk at the mud racing track. My head throbbed and my mouth was drier than a desert. I suffered from the hangover from Hell.
“I’m never drinking again,” I mumbled.
Eric laughed and shouted, “I've heard that before!”
Okay, maybe he didn't shout, but that's how it sounded to me.
“Shhhh, you're too loud,” I hissed.
“You're going to be useless today!”
“Shhh,” I urged again. More laughter. Asshole.
I heard the door open, but didn't move from my position.
“How can I help you?” I heard Mark say.
“Can I see Zion, please?” a soft voice asked.
Slowly, I lifted my head and squinted through the bright lights at who stood at the counter.
My eyes adjusted, and I saw that Amantha stood there. She looked like an angel in a simple white shirt with her pink hair loose in waves.Did she have her cane? I worried absently.
Amantha saw me and smiled. I hadn't seen or spoken to her since I put her to bed on Thursday. Seeing her was like receiving a breath of fresh air.
Mark laughed. “If you can get him off that desk, you can have him.”
She raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Promise?”
“Promise. He's no good here today.”
Well, Hell, if he thought that then I was out of there no matter what. Good riddance. I wanted to go back to bed, anyway.
“Okay,” she said.
She disappeared as she bent behind the counter, presumably setting a bag on the floor and digging into it. I couldn't seebehind the counter from where I was, but I heard something rustle.
She stood back up and grinned at me. “How's this?”
A hand stretched over the counter holding a package of Reese's cups.
My eyes widened. Yes.
I stood from the desk.