There came a brief moment upon waking when Nick forgot who, and where, he was. The amnesia lingered for only an instant. With clarity came the wish that forgetfulness would return. Nick possessed no desire to remember that he lay in his friend’s bed, that he was more than a little sore, slightly bruised and abused. In truth, he didn’t mind the soreness, or the bruising, or even the abuse, but his lover’s absence made him pull the sheet up over his head, digging down under the pillows. He knew how he had acted last night. He didn’t need telling. How could he face Alex? How could he face the ridicule that Alex was certain to aim in his direction? What did Alex think of such a wanton display?
“Wake up, sleepyhead.”
Nick wasn’t sure what surprised him more: that the bed dipped with Alex’s we
