My feet moved slowly. Every step grew more difficult the closer I came to Ginger’s door. I opened it between songs, making the creaking of the hinges seem amplified. Before me were twenty or so dusty stairs, at the top another door. I climbed quietly, although I wasn’t sure why. If he was mid-thrust, I certainly didn’t want to catch them in the act. My stomach roiled at the thought of someone else beneath him.
When I reached the door, I knocked—quietly at first—and then again. I used the side of my hand to knock the third time, and then I could hear rustling around.
“Ginger,” I heard Josh groan. “Ginger! There’s someone at your fucking door!”
I swallowed against the lump in my throat, already feeling tears well in my eyes. I knocked again, and then Josh’s feet stomped across the room. The door swung open, and he blanched.
“Avery,” he said, his bloodshot eyes wide. He was in a T-shirt and boxer briefs, as if he’d made himself right at home.
“I just, um …” My words caught in my throat. “Wanted to see for myself.”
I turned, but before I took the first step, Josh grabbed the hood of my coat and tugged me backward. “Wait!”
I flipped around, slapping his hand away. Before he could speak, I held up my hands. “Just! I don’t want to cause a scene. I know. This,” I said, gesturing to his underwear, “is your thing, and we just broke up. You running to fuck something to feel better isn’t surprising.”
“Ouch,” he said, struggling to focus. His eyes were rimmed with red, his face blotchy. “I guess I can see why you’d assume that, but you really think I’d do that on your birthday? C’mon, Avery, give me a little bit of credit.”
I nodded once. “Sorry,” I said, and then began to turn for the stairs.
“Avery?” he said. I stopped. “Did you see my car outside?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you come in here looking for me?”
I hesitated, but it was better when we didn’t pretend. “Yes.”
His voice was low and controlled. He was being careful. “I didn’t sleep with Ginger. She just brought me upstairs to sleep off the whiskey. I came here looking for you, too. That should tell us something, right?”
“Who is it?” Ginger asked, poking her wet hair and bare shoulders out of the bathroom, a thin yellow towel wrapped around her.
I looked at her, and then to Josh, devastation settling heavily in my chest.
He held out his hands, shaking his head, desperation in his eyes. “Baby …”
A half-smile quivered on my face. I began to speak, but there was nothing left to say, so I simply turned around and jogged down the stairs, running across the bar. My keys jingled as I readied them to unlock the car, and while I fumbled for the right key at my door, Josh yelped.
“Ow! Fuck!” He hopped on one bare foot, holding the other, still in his T-shirt and boxer briefs.
I finally found the key and twisted the lock, opening the door.
“Avery!” Josh barked. “Fucking wait!”
A handful of people in the parking lot turned toward the scene he was making. I cowered under their curious eyes.
Josh pointed at me as he limped over the rocks. “Don’t you open that fucking door, Jacobs!”
I stood tall, exasperated. “Why not? We’re obviously not good for each other, Josh. What the hell were we thinking?”
He carefully navigated the gravel under his tender feet, breathing hard when he finally made it to the Dodge. He pushed on the hood to support some of his weight, his breaths puffing out in quick, transparent clouds.
“That I love you,” he panted. “I love you, and I wouldn’t do that.” He pointed up toward Ginger’s upstairs apartment. “It never crossed my mind. All I think about is you. Do you hear me, Avery? There is no one else. There will never be anyone else. You can shove that necklace down my throat and laugh while I choke on it, and I still wouldn’t run out to fuck someone else. The only thing that will make me feel better …” He panted, his face tinged with a pale shade of green. “… is you.”
He shook his head, grabbing his knees as he tried to catch his breath, and then he heaved, expelling everything in his stomach.
“Jesus,” I said, watching the liquor and whatever else splatter on the ground.
He heaved again, and I awkwardly patted his back.
A creaky, dirty yellow cab pulled into the parking lot, the tires crunching against the gravel. The window rolled down and I smiled, surprised.
“Mel!”
“I thought you might need another ride.”
“I’m sober. I’m giving him the ride.”
Josh glanced up to see the wrinkled veteran staring down at him with a frown and then heaved again. “You’re taking me home?” Josh asked.
I reached into my pocket, giving Mel the money I owed him.
Mel narrowed his eyes. “What’s that?” he rasped.
“The money I owe you. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long.”
He waved me away, unimpressed.
“Please,” I said, holding out the bill.
He snatched it out of my hand. “You sure you don’t need a ride? You might need a chaperone with this one.”
Ginger ran out in a robe and fuzzy boots, carrying his pants, hoodie, and wallet. “We didn’t do anything!” she yelled across the parking lot. “Don’t leave!” When she reached us, she noticed the puddle of vomit on the ground and made a face, holding the backs of her fingers to her nose. “Oh, gross. I’m so sorry. I knew better than to let him drink that much.”
Josh made another hurling sound and more liquid came up.
“How much did he drink?” I asked, helping to steady him.
“I’d have to look at his tab. Pretty sure he spent his whole paycheck.”
“Pussy,” Mel grumbled, lifting up his hat and then pulling it back down. He pulled his shifter down. “You still got my card, sweetheart?”
“Still got it,” I said with a smile.
Mel pulled away and Josh vomited again, this time leaning so far over he almost fell face-first into the puddle below.
“Damn it, Josh,” I scolded him, rubbing my palm against the tensed muscles of his back.
His arm shot out and he held my leg, spitting and groaning.
“Avery,” Ginger said. I looked up at her. “We didn’t. I couldn’t let him drive. I did pull off his jeans because he’d spilled a shot on them and they stunk and I didn’t want it on my sheets. But if you go upstairs and look, you’ll see that I’d made me a pallet on the couch.”
I looked at Josh, unconvinced.
“I know how he feels about you,” Ginger said. “I wouldn’t do that to him.”
“And,” Josh said, still bent over.
Ginger smiled and rolled her eyes, handing me his things. “And Michaels tried to persuade him several times that she was ready if he was willing, and he made it clear he was only going home with you.”
“You’re a good boy after all,” I said, running my hand over his back in a small circle.
He swallowed. “Yes, but if you keep doing that, I’m going to puke again.”
“Sorry,” I said, grabbing his arm and reaching around his back to guide him.
“Where are we going?” Josh asked.
“I’m taking you home,” I said, walking him to the passenger side of my car.
Ginger winked at me before walking back to the bar.
“Ginger,” I called after her. She stopped, her hand on the door as she turned around. “Thanks for taking care of him.”
Her smile grew, and she nodded before disappearing inside the bar. I slid into the driver side, looking to my right. Josh had already leaned his seat back, his arm thrown over his eyes.
I leaned over, covering him with his hoodie.
He peeked at me with one eye. “I wish I didn’t feel like shit. I so want to hold you right now.”
“Shower and toothpaste first, then I’ll think about it,” I said, pulling the gear into drive.
Josh reached over, feeling blindly until he found my hand and then squeezed. “Thank God,” he whispered, pure relief in his voice. “Thank God.”