Free Pieces of You by Lisa Marie Page A

where Tim and all the groupies are hanging around. Tim hands me a beer and a shot. I gladly take both and slam them back as quickly as I can. Holding up my fingers, I signal the bartender to pour another round of shots for us and to keep 'em coming. The women are trying to get our attention, hinting that their glasses are empty, wanting us to give them alcohol, but we ignore them filling our own, getting drunker by the minute.
    Through fuzzy vision, my eyes swim in my head as a hand rakes up my spine. Causing goosebumps to raise in the wake of the fingernails. They reach my hairline and trace the line to my jaw.
    Turning my drunken gaze to the left, I see the smiling face of Sasha. Looking at me with lust, maybe? She's smiling and continues to touch my arm and my chest. "Sasha." I slur and lift the bottle to my lips, tipping it back and having some of the liquid dribble down my chin. I don't even wipe it, I just let it leave its trail as it falls onto my shirt from my chin. The lights around me are flashing and spinning. I hold onto the bar top for balance, hoping I don't pass out.
    "Let's go," I suggest to her and her eyes light up. She's surprised by my offer since I barely give her the time of day. "Back to your place. You need to drive though, I can't even..." I start but don't finish the sentence before she puts her glass down on the bar top and brings her lips to mine.
    The rest of my memory is fuzzy, and I am thoroughly dehydrated. Turning my head, I see her laying there on her belly - completely naked. Her arms are tucked under the pillow causing the swell of her breasts to be visible. She does have nice breasts, but I have to go. This is far from the ideal situation.
    Carefully I roll over and try to sit up without shaking the bed too much. My feet hit the carpet, and I wiggle my toes while I lean forward and rest my still drunken head in my hands.
    What was I thinking?
    Looking around, I don't see my clothes. They aren't on the floor by me. So, I stand and tiptoe to the other side of the bed, where I find them laying in a ball.
    "Your keys are in my purse. Your truck is outside." She mumbles into the pillow as I bend down to pick up my clothes. "But I think you're still too drunk to drive."
    She's probably right.
    I slide my legs into my jeans and clumsily pull my shirt on, looking around for my ballcap.
    "Hat is in the truck." She mumbles again.
    Stopping. I look down at her and have no clue what to say. "Thanks," is all I can muster before turning and walking out of her room.
    I quickly find her purse on the table in the kitchen and take my keys out. Before I leave the room, I run the water and drink directly from the tap. I drink for a while, but my thirst is still there as I turn to find my boots in the doorway. Hopping into them, I open the door and leave.
    The night air is chilly, but I still decide to walk home. I leave my truck in the driveway but lean in to get my cap before starting my trek home. The town isn't that big, but it's still going to take me some time to get there. I'll get Tim to bring me to pick up my truck in the morning.
    There's no traffic in this town at this time of the night. If anyone is out at The Shake, their vehicles stay overnight, unless they stay sober. Most of them. I pass the tree that Cam Parsons wrapped the front end of his Chevette around after we first turned twenty-one. He's so lucky he survived. Paralyzed but alive. We all learned a lesson that night, at least our group did. The kids who turned twenty-one after us, heard the stories or remembered them from the year before, until the stories went away. But now, more young people are being smart about their alcohol consumption.
    I walk past Sue's next, and all the lights are out. She shuts down at eleven. If she were to stay open later, she'd make a killing from all the bar people. But she doesn't hear that. She likes her sleep, and since it's mostly her at the restaurant, I can't say I blame her.
    Maybe I'll go see my