21
ZAC
When my alarm went off before six the next morning, I groaned in defeat.
My head was killing me, my mouth was as dry as dust and tasted as if something had died in there, and I could still smell Mari on my pillow.
That was the most miserable part: getting hard and reaching for her, only to find nothing but empty sheets.
With a curse, I rolled onto my back and roughly whacked out an arm to shut off the insistent sound blaring me to consciousness. I already wasn’t used to the time. I’d never had to check in at Harvey’s until nine. But the fact that I’d gotten s**t-faced last night didn’t help much either.
Granted, I’d drunk everything before I learned I had a new job opportunity waiting today, but still…
I wasn’t doing well.
The afternoon before, I’d gone down to Henderman’s w
