One and only warning: This book contains religion, catholic guilt, sex addiction, drug abuse, graphic sexual content and heavy violence. Read at your own discretion.
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"I am a priest, Anna. A child of god. You are a temptation," He whispered out, h...
"Stop moping around, get the fuck up, Harry," Pete said as he kicked the beer cans around that were thrown on the floor, studying the large bottles of alcohol on the coffee table, "I mean, really? You're gonna let yourself slip again?"
Nag, nag, nag.
"At least it's not pills," I slurred, pulling the thick blanket over my body to shield myself from the light Pete turned on, "Turn the fuckin' light off. Y'hurting my eyes."
Pete rolled his eyes, grabbing the blanket and snatching it off my body.
"Do you really think that this is going to get Anna to talk to you? Look at the state you're in, mate. A fuckin' mess," Pete sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Do you not remember what we have to do today?"
I sighed loudly, covering my eyes with one hand, "I'm not going."
"Why not?"
"Because."
Today was Nathan's funeral, tomorrow was Michael's. I didn't want to go, it would just be a haunting reminder that I wasn't able to save them and that I was once again a failure.
I also expected to see Anna there and I didn't know how to talk to her. I wanted to give her space, but I didn't know how and if I found myself around her I fear that I might not want to leave. She was my addiction, fuck the drugs, fuck the drinking--fuck the sex, I just wanted Anna. Her presence alone made my mind go into a opiated hazed high.
There was a long silence, then suddenly I felt Pete topple onto my body and grab both of my wrists to pin them down. I winced, too tipsy to comprehend what he was trying to do until I felt a sharp slap across my face.
"Ow, fuckin' hell, Pete!" I grunted, trying to fight for my wrists back, but he kept them locked above my head, "If you wanted to fuck, just say that, don't just jump on me without foreplay."
Pete blinked hard, mouth agape as I jetted my hips up against his ass with a smirk. Tequila always made me horny, even if Pete was my best mate, his ass pressed against my cock wasn't the best idea at that moment. But then he wound his hand back and slapped the side of my face once more. My head whipped to the side, a low chuckle escaping me before licking over my lips.
"I'm tired of your fucking shit. Whatever shit you and Niall got yourselves into, get out of it. I've never been one to get between the both of you, but this has gotten in the way of why we are here," Pete hissed, "Now get your shit together, take a fucking shower cause you smell like piss and let's go."
I rolled my eyes, watching as Pete jumped off of me. I adjusted my pants, leaning up on my elbows.
"So is that a no for fucking?" I chimed out in curiosity.
"Get in the fucking shower!"
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The heels of my shoes clicked against the cement floor through the empty hallways, the lights above were swinging from their small strings that held them up, flickering and hurting my eyes. It was time to pay a little visit to my friend, it was long overdue, but I liked to have a grand entrance full of anticipation.
