Sidequest for Love by L.H. Cosway

Oh, God.

I’d told her I wanted her.

I’d rested my head on her perfect breasts, nuzzled her neck, backed her up against the wall, and inhaled her scent. But … wait, had she said something about wanting me, too? The memory was too hazy to recall her exact words, but she certainly hadn’t been disgusted by my advances.

I was so full of regret and sick with a hangover that all I wanted to do was stay in bed all day and feel sorry for myself. I couldn’t do that, though, because I’d stupidly arranged to meet Annabelle. Not only that, I’d asked Afric to accompany me. So, now I had to meet Annabelle face to face with a hangover, and I also had to do it while being mortifyingly embarrassed for practically groping my newest friend last night.

Maybe deep down, I was a truly despicable person.

I sat there, wallowing for a long few minutes before I finally dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. I scrubbed my entire body clean while trying to figure out how to act in front of Afric when I saw her. Perhaps I should feign amnesia? People got too drunk to remember things all the time, right? At least that way, we wouldn’t have to discuss it.

I want to kiss you. I can’t stop thinking about it.

I winced. I couldn’t believe I’d told her that. What on earth had possessed me? I was normally so good at keeping my feelings and impulses to myself, but a few beers and a bit of jet lag and I was spilling my guts to one of the few people I truly enjoyed spending time with.

I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t show up today. I’d probably scarred her for life with my drunken advances.

It was almost time for me to head out to the café when my phone buzzed with a text.

Afric: Hey! How’s your head? I’m outside your building, and I brought coffee. Thought you could do with some caffeine before you face Annabelle.

Just like that, relief hit. I hadn’t scarred her for life. At the very least, I hadn’t scared her away completely. Now I just needed to worry about what she remembered me saying to her.

Neil: My head is pounding. It’s my own fault, really. Stay where you are. I’m on my way down.

I grabbed my keys and wallet, then made my way to the lift. One of my neighbours, an elderly woman with curly, plum-dyed hair, was bringing her Pomeranian for a walk. The little dog emitted a tiny growl when I passed, and I made sure to give it a wide berth.

“Sorry about him,” the woman said. “He’s terrified of everything, so he growls.”

“No worries,” I said, thinking the little dog probably had the right idea. Maybe if I growled at everything that scared me, the world would give me a wide berth, too, and I wouldn’t have to face days like this.

The doors to the lift opened when we reached the ground floor, and I motioned for the woman to leave first.

“Such a polite young man,” she chirped approvingly as she exited the lift.

As soon as I emerged, I spotted Afric standing outside, two takeaway coffee cups in hand. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. She still wore the hoop earrings from last night, the ones I distinctly remembered her saying she’d take out to fight Annabelle for me. A faint smile touched my lips at the memory.

She wore an oversized black hoodie that appeared to have epaulets on the shoulders boasting studs, spikes, and diamante. On her legs were forest green leggings. Her clothing choices were always unusual, though I’d come to appreciate them. I’d noticed she spent quite a bit of money on clothes when I’d gone through her accounts. Far too much, actually. So, these strange outfits had to be designer, given how much they cost. Maybe my taste was so basic that I couldn’t spot style when I was looking at it.

The woman and her little dog passed by Afric, the dog growling at her, too. She grinned down at it. “Tell me about it, buddy. Feckin’ ridiculous if you ask me.”

My neighbour gave a chuckle before continuing on her way.

“Morning,” I said, “I didn’t realise you could converse with animals.” She turned around with a tired smile. I was glad I wasn’t the only one feeling worse for wear.

“Just one of my many talents,” she replied and held out a coffee. I took a long sip, eyeing her because she appeared to be acting like everything was normal. She hadn’t brought up last night, but some impulse had me needing to clear the air. “Afric, if I said anything to offend you last night, I’m deeply sorry. I was drunk and jet-lagged, and that’s no excuse, but I’d still like to apologise.”

She gave a small, fond chuckle. “Would you ever stop? We’re friends, Neil. You don’t need to apologise for getting drunk and letting loose. In fact, I highly approve of it. Everyone needs to let their hair down once in a while.”

I scratched the spot behind my ear. “Still, I shouldn’t have been so—”

“Horny?” she cut in. “It happens to the best of us, especially when alcohol is involved. You were horny and drunk, and I was the only one there to receive said horny drunkenness. I get it. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten some action myself. Anyway, can you please wipe that guilty look off your face? We’re good. I actually think I like you more now. You’re an adorable, horny drunk, and in my book, that’s far better than an angry drunk or a mean one.”

“I still feel bad about it,” I said while pondering her statement.