Read Winter (Four Seasons #1) for Free Online

that way.” He tugs on the
pillow, freeing it from my embarrassingly pathetic grip. “You can
stay and sleep some more if you like. You can just lock up when you
leave.”
    I think about
it. I think about falling back to sleep in this big, comfy bed, and
it is tempting. But the idea of having to try and make my way
across New York City via public transport with the biggest hangover
I’ve ever had is enough to counterbalance that.
    “ Give me a
minute. I’ll be fine.”
    “ All right. I
don’t mean to be a dick but you’ll need to hurry. I can’t be
late.”
    I crack an
eyelid and survey Luke head to toe. He’s wearing a light grey
hoodie that’s a size too big for him over another plain black
t-shirt. The jeans are faded out again, frayed around the pockets.
He really can pull off a scruffy look. He slips out of the room and
I sit bolt upright in bed, holding my palm to my temple when my
head begins to pound. I’m freezing cold. I knock back the Tylenol
and get up, realizing I’m still fully dressed, and pull on my
shoes, which I find by tripping over them at the bottom bed. Very
uncoordinated. I suppose a half bottle of whiskey will do that to a
person. Luke is waiting by the door with a big sweatshirt in his
hand when I come out of the room. He doesn’t look half as bad as I
feel.
    “ How much did
you drink last night?” I croak.
    He puffs out
his cheeks and shakes his head. “As much as you.”
    “ You look
completely fine.”
    “ Well, I feel
like shit if it’s any consolation.”
    I hurry to him
and take the sweatshirt out of his hand, slipping it over my head,
grateful of the warmth. I catch sight of a welter of rumpled
blankets on the black leather sofa where he must have slept. “That
actually does make me feel a little better.”
    He exhales in
a tired way and smiles. “Well, they do say misery loves
company.”
     
    ******
     
    I am miserable
all day, but thankfully I don’t have to deal with any company. Luke
drops me home—another silent car journey—and when I get back to the
apartment Leslie is already gone. I tumble back into bed, knowing
there’s no way I am making class today. I haven’t missed a single
class since the semester began, and now I’ve ruined that perfect
record because… I don’t want to think why. It’s too
painful.
    When I wake up
six hours later, Leslie’s standing over my bed pulling a pretty
disgusted face. “It stinks like a brewery in here. Why does our
whole apartment stink like a brewery?”
    I groan and
pull the covers up over my head. She drags them off me despite my
feeble attempts to cling onto them and points to the
door.
    “ Shower. Right
now.”
    She opens the
windows as I gather up my towel and wash bag. My bedroom is
freezing cold by the time I came back freshly scrubbed. Admittedly,
I do feel a whole lot better now that it doesn’t taste like
something crawled into my mouth and died while I slept.
    “ Your phone
rang,” Leslie says, pointing at my cell. It lays on top of my bed,
where it appears Leslie has stripped my sheets and replaced them
with some of my fresh bedding.
    I cringe. “Was
it that bad?”
    She smirks at
me and slams the window closed. “Worse.”
    I have four
missed calls from Morgan. For some reason I’d expected to hear from
Luke, but there’s nothing. I text Morgan and tell her I’m too ill
to meet her for coffee. She replies almost immediately:
     
    Morgan: I
know some guy paid Melissa Collins fifty bucks to find out which
apartment was yours. You’d better call me right now! I need
details.
     
    I turn my
phone off and hide it back under my pillow.
    The rest of
the night is spent wondering how much I’ve missed in my classes. I
eventually get around to replying to Brandon’s email. I don’t
really know where to begin at first. I start out determined not to
mention what Luke told me about the Wyoming Ripper and Colby
Bright’s accusations, but that resolve lasts all of five
seconds.
     
    Hey,