47

BRANDON

I wake up with a throbbing head, the loud bell of my phone chiming. Lazily, I grope for the phone on the side table and force my eyes open. I’m hoping to see her name, but instead only see Oliver’s.

I jump off my bed—no, not my bed but a plush king mattress in Vermont. I remember now. I pretty much drank half the bar in the club last night and passed out the moment I entered the suite. I gawk at my phone screen, thinking of excuses to give him. But if my memory serves me correctly, I was out of my goddamn mind last night.

I answer the call after another ring.

“Damn it, Brandon. Where are you?” he curses.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you. Something came up.” I massage the back of my neck.

“Oh, so something came up at the club last night, and then you just disappeared?” he mocks. “Tell me, did you go home with that woman?”

I scowl. “What woman?”

“The one with the blue hair... or violet, I can’t remember.”

I squeeze my temples. “I’m all alone in this suite, Ollie. What kind of