Chapter 10

When I woke up, I was in exactly the same position-face down on the couch. A blanket covered me, and I was alone in the living room.

I turned on my side and saw the first signs of a gray and cloudy dawn pressing in at the window. It was going to be a drab day.

I raised my head-and it was as if someone had plunged an icepick into my skull. I groaned and let my head fall back to the couch. After a while. I tried it again. The pain was less severe this time, and I managed to get myself into a sitting position with the blanket wrapped around my shoulders. I rested like that for a few moments, then slowly got to my feet, clutching the blanket around me.

My head whirled and pain kept stabbing through it. My throat was dry, as dry and parched as if I had just spent a week on the desert. I wrapped the blanket tighter about me and stumbled through the living room and into the kitchen. I found a glass in a cabinet over the sink, turned on the cold water, and drank three glassfuls one after the other.

I left the kitchen, conscious of how cold the floor felt against my bare feet, and went back into the living room. I looked at the couch, then down at the blanket wrapped about me, then glanced at the partly open bedroom door.

I grunted and made up my mind fast.

I walked slowly to the bedroom, paused for a moment, then pushed the door open.

Julie was awake. She was lying on her side facing the door, and in the dimness of the room, I could see her green eyes staring at me.

"Hi," I mumbled, standing in the doorway.

"I heard you moving about out there," Julie said in a low voice.

"Did I wake you up?"

"Yes, but it doesn't matter, Phil. How do you feel?"

"Lousy." I left the doorway and went to the bed.

Julie glanced up at me. "You look cold, all wrapped up in that blanket"

"I am," I said. I let my eyes move over the bed. It was a double bed, plenty of room for two.

Julie read my thoughts. She licked her lips and said, "Would you like to get in here with me and ... and warm up for a while?"

I nodded and started for the other side of the bed.

"Just to get warm, Phil." Julie said quickly. "And to talk a little ... nothing more."

Another stab of pain shot through my head. "I had nothing else in mind," I snapped back at her.

She was silent as I dropped the blanket and crawled into the bed beside her. She turned to face me, and we looked at each other for a long moment, neither one of us saying anything.

Julie licked her lips again. "I ... I didn't mean that to sound the way it did, Phil. I wasn't implying that you ... would try anything with me now. You understand, don't you?"

"Forget it," I said shortly.

"Anyhow," Julie said in a small voice, "it would be! letter if you were to go soon."

"All right," I said. "Just as soon as I warm up and this damn head of mine stops aching a little."

Sympathy showed in her green eyes. "Of course, Phil." She brushed a strand of tousled auburn hair from her cheek. "Is there anything I can do-I mean, anything I can get you?"

I shook my head and winced as blinding pain shot through my skull. It went away in a few moments, and I looked at her closely. Her face was clear of any makeup, her hair mussed from sleep. Warmth from her body seemed to permeate the whole bed. If it weren't for the way my head felt, I knew I'd be right in there pitching.

But not now.

I was in no condition for it.

Julie sighed and turned her head away from me.

Something wasn't quite right here, I thought. Something was troubling her. She had been hesitating a lot while she talked to me, and I had caught glimpses of a worried look in her eyes. I frowned, trying to think it through, and just the effort of drawing my brows together sent another sharp pain through my head. I closed my eyes and groaned.

"I'm sorry you feel bad, Phil," Julie whispered.

"My own fault," I muttered, keeping my eyes closed. "Just drank a little too much yesterday, that's all."

"A lot too much," she corrected.

"All right, all right," I said bitterly. "Don't rub it in." The pain was getting worse now.

"Don't take it out on me, Phil," Julie said with a slight edge to her voice. "You were the one who did all the drinking, not me. You-you had your fun last night. Don't blame me for how you feel this morning."

So that was it! She was troubled about what had happened last night. Just like a woman, I thought, as the pain stabbed through my head again. Has herself a good time at night and then, in the morning, tries to blame the man.

"Who you kidding?" I snapped. "You had as much fun as I did."

"Don't talk like that, Phil!"

"Well, didn't you?"

"I-I guess I got carried away a little."'

"I'll say you did," I answered.

"Phil!"

"Oh, come off it, Julie," I said, and I knew the pain was driving me to say this and that I wouldn't have talked to her this way if my head hadn't felt the way it did. "We're both adults," I went on. "Nothing so terrible or out of the ordinary happened last night."

"It was out of the ordinary-for me," Julie said, her voice trembling.

I snickered. The pain in my head forced the words out of me. "Sure-and now you're going to hand me that old line about not being that kind of girl."

"I'm not!" There was genuine anger in her voice now. "Oh, I'm not as pure as the driven snow, either. But I'm usually not that easy a mark, Phil. In fact, last night-last night was the first time it ... ever happened to me that way. I-I don't know what got into me."

"I do," I said, and the words were out before I could stop them.

I felt her body stiffen next to me. "You'd better go right now," she said coldly.

"It'll be a pleasure," I said, throwing back the covers and getting out of the bed.

In my anger, I had pulled the covers partly off of her, and she yanked them back-but not before I had seen the smooth whiteness of her thighs and the rounded curve of her hips.

"Fine thing," I muttered, standing beside the bed. "First, you invite me into bed with you, then you toss me out. Make up your mind, Julie."

Her voice was even colder now. "I invited you in because I felt sorry for you. You were cold and didn't feel so good, and I thought it'd be nice to let you get warm in the bed for a while and rest a little before you left." Her eyes regarded me icily. "And I wanted a chance to talk to you, too." i

"Well, I'm warm and rested now," I said bitterly. "And we bad our chance to talk."

"Yes ... and I found out just what you think of me, Phil. Please go. Leave right now."

I turned from her and stalked out of the bedroom, trying to make a dignified exit, but knowing that no man can look dignified walking out of a room naked and a little unsteady on his feet.

In the living room, I gathered up my clothes and started to dress. The bedroom door was open, and I could see Julie, the covers pulled up to her neck, watching me coldly and angrily. I wanted to go back into the bedroom and tell her she had me all wrong, that I hadn't really meant what I said, that it was the excruciating pain that had made me talk like that. But I didn't go back to her. It wouldn't have done any good. Julie was hurt too much now to listen to any apologies. She had let herself go last night, really let herself go, and this morning her reaction of doubt and some shame was to be expected. If it hadn't been for my lousy, painful hangover, I would have had sense enough to realize this and to find just the right words to make her feel easier in her mind.

But I hadn't done that-and it was too late now.

I finished dressing and put on my coat. I picked up the copy of her play from the table and turned to the bedroom door. "I'm taking this with me," I said, holding it up so she could see it. "I want to read it again."

She made no answer, and after waiting a moment longer, I tucked the play under my arm and walked out of the apartment without saying another word to her.