Jason stumbled out of the elevator, one hand braced against the wall for balance as he kicked his shoes off. He tugged at the buttons of his shirt haphazardly as he continued into his condo, frowning at the loud clash of voices and game sounds spilling from his sitting room. His head hurt, his steps unsteady, and he looked like the kind of man he'd sworn he’d never become. Voices rose, laughter ringing out as he turned the corner, stopping dead in his tracks. Two heads whipped around to him, their smiles dropping the moment they took him in. “You're finally back,” Julian said, taking a sip from his glass of wine before setting it down on the glass center table. “You look like shit.” Cole wrinkled his nose at him, pausing the game on the massive wall-mounted OLED screen. He felt like one. Fucking hell. He didn't need them in his head right now. Or ever. Ignoring them, he staggered through the open-plan living area, dropped his jacket on the backrest, and flopped onto the minotti
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