Cope could take that to the bank.
2
Jude
Jude sat in the backseat of Fitzgibbon’s SUV and knew he was going to get it when they got home. Cope hadn’t said a word since he’d had to buckle Jude’s seatbelt because his fingers weren’t working. Jude had giggled, but he knew it was no laughing matter. Cope was ready to go nuclear.
When Fitzgibbon parked in front of their house, Ronan helped Jude out of the vehicle and into the house. Cope noticed all of the kids, minus Lizbet, were sacked out in their sleeping bags in front of the television. Ten scooped up Ezra, while Ronan paid their share of the money to the babysitter, Courtney. Cope and Fitz did the same.
“How were the kids?” Cope asked.
“They were so much fun. Everly told me my future and Wolf told the funniest jokes.” Courtney laughed, as if she were remembering one in particular.
“What’s in your future?” Ten asked, curiously.
“Everly said there was going to be lots of drama. I mean, of course there is, I’m going to be a first grade teacher someday soon.” Courtney shrugged into her coat. “Can you give me a lift home, Mr. Fitzgibbon?”
“Sure thing!” Fitz scooped up Aurora and headed out the door. “Night, everyone. Cope, call if you need anything.”
Jude watched from the sofa as their friends filed out of the house with their kids. Cope closed and locked the door behind them.
“I’m gonna bring Wolfie up to bed and check on Lizbet.” Cope didn’t even look at Jude.
“Wait! Don’t go,” Jude begged. He didn’t like the slurred tone of his words. “There’s something wrong.”
Cope swung around to look at his husband. “You mean the fact that you let every man in town hang on you all night or that you spent an hour this evening with a huge dicked former lover? Or the fact that you left me alone at our table. Or that I couldn’t find you when we all wanted to go home? Are those the things that are wrong or is it something else I don’t know about?”
Even in his semi-drunken state, Jude knew Cope was colossally pissed off. It was going to take more than a smile and his usual charm to get himself out of this mess. He had a feeling it was his charm that had him in this much hot water to begin with. “No. Well, yes. I mean no.”
Cope raised his left brow, but didn’t say anything.
“I mean there’s something wrong with me.” Jude groaned and slapped his hands over his mouth. He ran to the bathroom just in time to spew. The remains of the awful dinner and his four drinks swirled down the bowl when he flushed. He tried to push himself off the floor but couldn’t make it back to his feet.
“Yeah, there’s something wrong with you, all right.” Cope shook his head. His eyes were filled with anger and disappointment.
“No, I mean…” Jude let out a sigh. He’d known what he wanted to say to Cope but couldn’t seem to find the words at the moment. Instead, he held up his hands, hoping his husband would help him get back to his feet.
Cope obliged and got Jude standing. He grabbed out for his tux jacket, when his husband listed to the left.
“I didn’t have that much to drink,” Jude said when Cope maneuvered him back to the sofa. He tried to peel off his jacket, which was suffocating him, but settled for undoing the bowtie and the top studs of his shirt.
“Define how much,” Cope said, crossing his arms over his chest.
Jude held up four fingers. “Three drinks.”
“Your mouth says three but your hand says four. Which is it?” Cope sounded more exasperated than angry.
Jude’s head was pounding, making it hard to think. “One during the cocktail hour. Wine at dinner. One or two more after we ate.” Jude gagged again, but didn’t throw up. “I really don’t feel well. I…I-” Jude forgot what he’d been about to say. He’d been drunk plenty of times in his life but this was different. “Drugs.”
“You took drugs tonight?” Cope’s mouth hung open in obvious shock.
Jude shook his head. “No. Not me. In my drink. I think. This isn’t tight. I’m not tight. I mean...” He looked up to Cope for help, but his husband didn’t look to be in a very charitable mood.
“I need to get Wolf up to bed. I’ll be back. Stay put.” Cope picked up Wolf and headed for the stairs.
Jude sat back against the couch cushions. The very last thing he wanted to do right now was move. The room had started to spin around him. He definitely didn’t have enough to drink to cause this. In his entire life he’d only gotten the spins once and that was the first time he drank and thought he was going to die. Jude felt worse now that he did on that teenaged night long ago.
What if Cope didn’t believe how wrong he felt? He didn’t look like he believed anything Jude had said before he’d taken Wolf upstairs. Should he call Ronan? Fitz? 911? Taking a deep breath, Jude tried to calm down. Cope said he’d be back down in a minute. He needed to gather his wits so he could tell his husband how he felt, physically, not mentally, although Jude knew he was fucked in the head at the moment. Cope was pissed and to be honest, Jude didn’t blame him.
