Chapter Nine Hangover Food
RYLEE
Ughhhh… I feel like I got hit by a truck filled with tequila. My head is throbbing and I have the worst case of dry mouth. At least I’m in a bed with a soft pillow to cushion my skull as it’s slowly being crushed.
God, what happened?
Slowly, I manage to peel my eyes open and am not surprised to find Gizmo sitting on my pillow, gazing down at me with judgement in his feline eyes.
“Shut up,” I groan at him. “Don’t look at me like that.”
He growls low in his throat before turning and hopping off the bed.
Moaning, I push myself up so I’m sitting in bed.
I immediately get dizzy and squeeze my eyes shut, but that only makes the spinning in my head worse.
Fuck. There’s a pounding headache behind my eyes, and…
ooph… my stomach. My body is so mad at me. Kill me now.
Grabbing my phone, I see that I have several text messages from various people, mostly asking if I’m still alive.
Grace: Good morning Sleeping Beauty! Make sure you drink water. Not tequila!
Skyler: Please send proof of life. Just want to make sure you didn’t drown in your toilet.
Skyler: By the way, who the hell is Kodiak?
Oh, fuck. Was I talking about him last night? At least it doesn’t seem like I let it slip that he’s Zander, so that’s something. I guess. There’s one more message from my mom, which is really just the nail in the coffin of this delightful morning.
Mom: Hey sweetie! Just checking in to see how things are going. Give me a call when you can! Love you!
I drop my phone on my bed. I’m not in the mental state to respond coherently right now, and I’m always careful not to talk to Mom if I’m drunk or hungover.
She’s not a fan of alcohol. Rubbing my hands over my face, I try to remember what all happened last night.
I was hanging out with the girls, having a great time…
there were shots at one point… why did I do that?
Oh, right. I couldn’t stop thinking about Zander. That’s why I started going harder with the liquor. I wanted to put him out of my head, and since I couldn’t force my thoughts away from him, I decided to drown him out.
How could I have been so stupid to not remember him?
To not remember that he was Kodiak? I mean, sure, my breakup with Miles hit me harder than any break up before and I wasn’t exactly in a good head space during the wedding.
It’s just that I was so certain Miles was it…
he was going to be the perfect guy who I built a life with.
The one my mom always told me to hold out for.
I can’t help but think back on that night we ran into each other at that bar in Nashville.
He was just as handsome as he’d been in high school, with his dark hair and golden brown eyes.
He’d been a football player with aspirations to go pro, so he’d been built too, and I’m a sucker for a big man with broad shoulders.
Things between us were… goodish. Admittedly, I was a bit blinded by his heart-thumping smile and above-average kisses.
He ended up not being quite as perfect as I’d hoped.
When he’d disappeared with his friends for a week-long “bro-trip” without telling me, I’d dumped him immediately…
but he managed to weasel his way back into my good graces.
I never give second chances, but Miles was different.
I’d had a crush on him in high school - had thought he was almost godlike in my stupid teenage girl brain.
For him to actually be interested in me - well, that made even my adult brain a little stupid.
When I caught him cheating, though, that was it.
Dumped. Over. Finished.
So, I did what I always do after a break up - got drunk.
God, I remember feeling so low that night. So inadequate and hopeless that I’d never find the perfect guy. Then, that orgasm…
A shiver runs through my body.
Those green eyes… strong arms… skilled tongue… it was all Zander.
Zander!
Fury pulses through me, pushing away my irritation. How dare he! How dare he give me such an incredible night and disappear like it never happened! He knew who I was. He knows my friends. He wasn’t at the wedding with anyone, but he still had the nerve to fucking ghost me!
I’ve never been ghosted before. I’ve been cheated on, but not ghosted. Fuck Miles and fuck Zander! Fuck all the guys not good enough for me! They had their chance with me and blew it, and I refuse to settle for any kind of mistreatment.
Ow, ow, ow… my head.
Groaning, I reach into the nightstand to grab the bottle of Advil I’ve got stashed there and pop a few, taking a drink out of an old water bottle on the floor.
Painkillers consumed, I sit in bed fuming and decide to dig my journal and pen out of my bag.
Opening to a blank page I scribble out everything that has happened to me the last couple days, leaving me frustrated and feeling as if I’m losing my mind.
Journaling is my go-to outlet. I fill them up with everything I’m feeling, and once they’re full, I shred them so that my personal thoughts stay private.
I don’t journal to go back and reminisce - I journal to purge and expel my feelings because I’m not about to talk about them.
Gross.
Journaling is something Mom suggested I try. She started doing it when she was young and always found it helpful. I took up the habit as well, and it really is good for venting and purging myself of the things that upset me.
When I finish journaling, I tuck the notebook under my pillow and release a long breath. Whoo… it always feels good to get things out of my head and onto paper. Stretching my arms over my head, I decide I should get up and do my skin care routine. That’ll help me feel more refreshed.
Climbing out of bed, I pause a moment as the world spins. Once I’m certain I won’t collapse with one step, I drag my feet into the bathroom. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and flinch.
Good lord… my mascara is streaked under my eyes, my hair is a tangled mess, and I have crusted drool in the corners of my mouth.
“Rylee, is that you?” I ask, pressing my palm to the mirror.
Shaking my head, I wash my face and layer on my serums, moisturizer, and primer, then do my makeup so I don’t look so much like hot trash. By the time I’m done, I look like the gorgeous, functioning human woman I am.
I really should have Grace record my beauty routine and plaster it across social media.
Now, to go out there and face Zander.
Working with him. One-on-one.
Ughhhhhh… why can’t I just crawl back into bed and pretend he doesn’t exist?
No. No! I will not hide myself away just because of a stupid guy!
I quickly get dressed, brush my hair, then drag Gizmo out from under the bed before making my way out of the bedroom. As I march down the hall, I keep my chin held high. I will not feel embarrassed in front of that douche-canoe.
When I make it out to the living room, I’m pumped up and prepared for a verbal battle of wills, but Zander is… gone.
Fuck. Ghosted again.
Predictable asshole. Get a new play!
All this pent up aggression has nowhere to go now. He’s probably at practice. I didn’t consider that. Damn, I really need to put a schedule together and get things figured out for interviews and photoshoots, then I can hit up the end of practice and fill in the players and coaches.
But first, coffee before I pass out on the kitchen floor.
Crossing to the fridge, I open it in search of creamer and am surprised to find a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast, covered in saran wrap with a post-it note attached to the top.
Thought you might need some hangover food. - Zander
Nibbling my bottom lip, I pull the plate out to heat it up in the microwave. Okay… I do need hangover food. Score one for Zander.
The smell of warm bacon makes my mouth water and for a moment, I decide that maybe Zander isn’t such a bad guy after all. However, when I sit down to eat, I pause. Hold up… a little bacon isn’t enough to undo all the fuckery he’s put me through!
“If Zander thinks a morning breakfast is enough to make up for his ‘hit it and quit it’ behavior, he has another thing coming!” I grumble, glancing down at Gizmo.
I still eat the breakfast.
And, fuck me, it’s delicious.
After I eat, I grab my laptop and get to work setting up the schedule. Gizmo hops up onto the island next to me and curls up to sleep.
About half an hour goes by and I’m totally in the zone. So much so that when my phone starts buzzing, it startles me. I grab it and freeze, my heart racing at the name flashing across my screen.
Miles.
What the hell? Why is he calling me? I haven’t spoken to him since I dumped his sorry ass, and my stomach twists with anxiety at the thought of talking to him again.
No. Hell no.
I decline the call and set the phone back down. It immediately starts buzzing again and I pick it back up, grinding my teeth. I relax when I see that it’s Sutton calling this time, not that bastard Miles.
“Hey stranger,” I answer. “What’s going on?”
“Not much,” she replies in a cheery voice. “Just thought I’d check in and see how it’s going. Have you fallen in love with a hot hunk and decided to move there permanently? Seems to be the trend lately.”
My stomach clenches and I release a nervous laugh. “What? That’s crazy. I wouldn’t do that… don’t be dumb!”
“Oooookay,” Sutton replies in a voice dripping with suspicion. “I totally believe you.”
“Whatever,” I grumble, closing my laptop and moving to shove it in my computer bag. “I just got here, so I haven’t had time for anything other than hanging out with the girlies.”
“Ugh, I’m jealous. I wish I could hang out with you all too.” She lets out a long sigh.
“Why don’t you fly out here for a weekend or something?”
“No can do,” she grumbles. “Work is crazy right now. We’re mid-construction on a new high rise and there’s no way my boss is going to let me go until it’s done.”
“That sucks. I’d love it if you could be here.”
“I know. It’s just not the same without my gorgeous self.”