162(1)
HAYES
Thirty minutes later I’m sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of bourbon that barely registers as a burn anymore. It’s smooth, almost too smooth, and I’m already debating whether I need something stronger.
Maybe tequila. Something that’ll hit fast and hard, numbing everything so I don’t have to think or feel.
But of course, I think about her anyway.
The logical part of me knows I should accep