Wade

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I woke up feeling like shit. My head was throbbing, and my body ached. It took me a few minutes to sit up and sip the water and down the aspirin that was on my nightstand. I just barely remember Quinn helping me last night, and I felt like the biggest asshole. I had never drank like this. When Quinn explained that Ben had asked her out, I felt a twinge of jealousy run through me. I felt guilt and relief when she said she wasn't going.

When I got to the bar, and the guys were all giving Ben a hard time because he couldn't get a date, it made my skin crawl. One beer became two and so on. The guys couldn't help themselves from talking about Quinn and how beautiful she is. The more they talked about her, the more I drank. My friend, Mickey, who owned the bar decided at closing time to make sure I got home safely, and well you know the rest.

I drug myself out of the bed and to the shower, hopeful the hot water would help shake off the hangover. After my shower, I sat on the deck with a mug of coffee. I was hoping I hadn't done anything stupid or said anything inappropriate. I checked my phone and only had a few missed calls, nothing out of the ordinary.

"Anyone home?" I heard Grant call out as he entered my home. I held my mug up in a silent hello as he walked out the back door. "Ah, it's been a while since I've seen a hangover on you." The smug fucker teased, pulling up a chair.

"Yeah, for good reason, I feel like shit," I grumbled. "What are you doing here?"

"I came by to see what you were up to. I'm heading to Boston in the morning, so thought I'd let you see my pretty face before I go." he smiled wide.

"So basically, to make my day worse," I smirked.

"Where's Quinn?" Grant asked, looking around as if she would appear out of nowhere.

"I'm not sure." I ran a hand through my hair. I felt guilty that she had seen me in such a state and then had to help me to bed. I was hoping I hadn't said anything stupid, either. As usual, Grant could pick up on my concerns.

"Something happen last night?" He cocked a brow at me.

"No. Not like that." I sipped the coffee, feeling it burn its way down, hurting so good. "She helped me when I got home. I was a stumbling mess."

"She's a good one," Grant muttered. I watched his face and could see the lost look in his eyes, he was thinking about her, and I suddenly felt sick. After emptying my stomach over the side of the porch like a frat boy, I made my way back inside. Grant followed.

"Are you interested in her?" I blurted, standing at the counter.

"Quinn? No. I mean, she's gorgeous, but I can see you two have some sort of chemistry or connection." He explained. "I wouldn't do that to you, you know if you plan on pursuing her." Grant shrugged as he began pulling various ingredients out of my refrigerator. I watched with a pounding head as he whipped up a hangover brunch. "She's a hard worker, great with clients, and an overall nice person. I happen to see how she looks at you though, and you could only be so lucky." He continued talking while cooking.

"Why are you and Carrie so concerned about my life?" I groaned as he slid a plate of eggs and toast across to me. Despite the rumble in my stomach, I began to eat and drink the water he poured for me.

"It's been a minute since that whole Denise thing, and you've been pretty miserable, whether you'd admit it or not. We just want to see you happy." He plated some food for himself, taking a seat next to me.

"Neither one of you are in any kind of relationship, at least that I know of. How do I know you're not miserable, and perhaps I should be setting you up and meddling in your love life, eh?" I mumbled with a disgustingly full mouth.

"Carrie isn't single; if you weren't such a recluse, you'd have met her girlfriend by now. I also like playing the field, when the right one comes along well then we'll see, for now, I enjoy the variety of life" He laughed, then patted my back, causing my head to swirl.

"When the hell did Carrie start dating?" I asked, surprised and feeling guilty. I didn't know that she was seeing someone. I stepped away from my empty plate and groaned as I laid back on the sofa. A nap was calling my name about now, but of course, my head was full of this prompting of information about Carrie and questions about Quinn. "She's implied several times that she's painfully single."

"She's been dating this woman for a few months, I think. I met her once; we met up for drinks one night. She seems pretty cool. If you ever came out with us, you would have met her too." Being the pest that he was, Grant took it upon himself to plop down in the recliner across from me. "More importantly, I'm leaving with Boston with your girl tomorrow. Your Dad is going to be riding your ass about meeting with Denise and the Scholts, you ready for that?"

"Fuck no. You're making this hangover worse. What is the deal with them, and why is the deal that important." I ran my hand down over my face.

"It's a lot of money on the line, it's an iron-clad contract and will bring in major revenue plus potential other clients. I see why your old man is focused on the deal, I really do but Denise is playing hardball, you must have a golden cock man 'cause she wants you back, bad."

"She wants money and power; that's what she thinks I can provide. I want no part of the company and no fucking part of her anywhere near me." I pulled my ball cap down over my face, hoping to block out any more conversation. My head was spinning. I glanced over at Grant, who was distracted by something on his phone, so I took a moment to close my eyes and relax.

Just as I was about to doze off I heard the familiar voices of the only ladies in my life. They were chatting up a storm as they entered the house and it sounded like they were dropping bricks on the floor, though I assume that was an exaggeration on my part due to the hangover that was slowly easing up.


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