Chapter Thirty-Three
Dylan
By the end of several rounds of death-matching and shots of fine scotch, we were fluffy and definitely needing the driver to drop us home. If we were going home?
“Is this an all night thing?” I asked.
My friends looked between each other. “I didn’t bring a toothbrush,” Mikey said.
We roared with laughter. Yeah. Drunk.
“Size of this place, it has to have a lot of bedrooms,” Linc said.
“How many hours did you rent?” Bob asked Jake.
“Um…ask that concierge bloke. The kid with high-water trousers and no socks.”
“Hannah’s not hosting a slumber party, so…”
“So?” I asked.
“s**t, I lost my train of thought. That’s really strong scotch.”
“I think we’re done for the night, friends,” I said. “It’s been fun.” Jake and Linc nodded. Bob…where’d he go? “Where’s Bob?”
