“We do,” I whisper breathlessly, not sure if she truly means that in a forever sense or just that we have more time to try to fix the negative feeling that has been left undealt with between us.
This could just be about closure for her. It doesn’t have to be an opening for something more.
Needing some space, and since Scarlett is already breathing deeply, signaling she has fallen asleep, I leave the bedroom, my stomach rebelling from not only the overwhelming emotions but also the awful drink Harvey made.
What the hell was in that drink? And is it possible this is some sort of dream I’m stuck in?
I should pinch myself, see if I wake up, but before I even move my arm, my stomach churns in a way that causes me to sweat and my body to shake.
I think I’m going to be sick.
I sprint toward the bathroom, thankful that we are staying with men who don’t close the toilet seat, since I don’t have time to do anything other than shove my head in the bowl and remove all traces of the smoothie out of my body, as well as tonight’s drinks and dinner. It just keeps coming until my stomach cramps and my body is full-blown shaking. I’m not sure I want to live.
What the hell did Harvey give me? I almost never drink to the point of needing to be sick, yet one of Harvey’s concoction has me chucking within twenty minutes?
No wonder Nix was begging not to have one.
I take a few deep breaths, ignoring the not-so-nice smell. When I feel safe enough to move, I flush the toilet and stand at the sink, needing both hands to support me.
My reflection shows a tired me, looking worn out, my hair sticking to the sides of my face, my eye makeup running down my face, and my eyes are bloodshot.
I lean over the sink, washing my face then rinsing out my mouth. I then put some toothpaste on my finger and do the best I can before I stand up straight at the sound of a door opening.
Is Scarlett moving around?
Nope. I watch a mostly naked Nix leap toward the toilet, mimicking my movements earlier, except Harvey is close behind him, thankfully in sweats and a T-shirt.
He eyes me warily as he crouches beside a heaving Nix. “You okay?” he asks, not seeming all that affected by his boyfriend heaving his guts out.
“You make the worst smoothies ever,” I inform him, not appreciating his smile in response before he shifts his attention back to Nix.
I don’t feel proud to receive a smile from him this time. Instead, I’m tempted to smack it off his face.
“You’ll thank me in the morning.”
“Doubt it,” I mutter.
His attention is entirely on Nix now, so I leave them to it, not feeling so good to be hearing Nix chucking up.
I grab a glass out of the third cupboard I check and fill it with water from the tap. Chugging it down, the cool liquid soothes my throat before I fill it up again in case Scarlett wants a sip.
Back in our bedroom, I find Scarlett curled up on her side, but she hasn’t gotten under the covers.
Emotions hit me left and right as I’m reminded of the real reason I needed to leave. Happiness, relief, fear, and hope are the most prevalent. Happiness, relief, and hope that Scarlett and I might be able to move past this, that we will be okay now. And fear that I might be setting myself up for a huge fall.
Scarlett isn’t a big girl by any means, but she is an immoveable boulder in bed. Often, if she falls asleep intertwined with me, I’m stuck until she decides to move in her sleep, or until I wake her up.
Moving her up the bed almost pulls my back out, making me wonder why my weight sessions at the gym haven’t helped prepare me for this. What muscles am I using here that I’m not able to work out there?
When her head finally hits the pillow, I’m out of breath and ready to just give up and pass out on top of the covers, but I’m so close and don’t want Scarlett to feel cold throughout the night.
I stand on the side of the bed and pull the covers back until they are finally down the other end and Scarlett is no longer on top of them. Then I gently place them back over her, tucking them gently under her chin.
I gaze over her as she sleeps, something I don’t get to do very often, since I was always fast asleep before her. And in the morning, I was either in a rush to get to work or to start something with her.
Gazing over her now, feeling her deep breaths brushing my face, her soft lips a darker red than normal from the wine, her cheeks still flushed pink, and her hair looking redder than brown today, scattered over the pillow, I’m not sure I have seen her look so gorgeous before. And as stunning as she is on the outside, I know she is even more beautiful on the inside.
I have to pinch myself just to make sure this isn’t a cruel dream. Then again, my puking session already proved this is no dream. Nope, perfection is in bed with me.
When I get under the covers, grateful to finally relax, I reach over and turn off the lamp. Then Scarlett is wrapping her arms around me, shifting her leg so I am trapped under her and resting her head on my shoulder, her breath caressing my neck. She holds me tightly, and I try to stay awake for as long as I can, enjoying the embrace.
I don’t know how many ones like this I will get.
Chapter 11
Opening my eyes to find unfamiliar surroundings, I feel a little foggy and unsure of where I am. Then a soft breath touches my neck, an arm tightens around my middle, and a leg shifts over my thigh, and I realize Scarlett has wrapped herself around me.
Warmth and happiness envelope me, making me feel at peace for a few moments. This is how it’s supposed to be.
And then the dull headache from my excessive drinking encroaches.
Damn, if I am feeling like this, Scarlett must feel so much worse.
“Hey, Lettie. How are you feeling this morning?” I ask softly, not only for my own sake but fearing she must be much worse than me. She didn’t heed my warning at the start to take small sips.
She shifts around me as she removes her vice-like grip and assesses herself, leaving her legs tangled in mine. She leans her elbow on the mattress beside me and widens her lips in a huge smile.
“I feel amazing,” she breathes the words over me, meaning I get a giant whiff of her vomit smoothie breath.
“Oh, my God, your breath!” I gasp, unable to hide my disgust.
“What?” She leans away, covering her mouth with her hand before wincing at what she smells. “What the hell is that?”
“Harvey’s smoothie,” I murmur, already feeling a little queasy just recalling it.
“Is that what I had last night?”
“Yes, I woke you up to have it.”
A surprised smile graces her lips. “I just remember it tasted amazing.”
I shake my head, wondering just how much she drank last night to even think that.
“It was awful. I threw up not even twenty minutes after having it, and Nix wasn’t far behind me.”
“Really? You threw up? You should have gotten me.” The concern in her voice gives me pause.
“You were passed out. Once it was out of me, I felt better.” I sit up, grabbing the glass of water I left for her on the bedside table and passing it over.
She takes a few sips.
I have to admit, she looks great, and not just because she is sitting up and the blanket has fallen near her lap. She has color in her cheeks, her hair is a tumbled mess that looks more adorable than my likely mop of chaotic mess, and she looks refreshed.
How can someone who drank the equivalent of two bottles of wine look so … so okay?
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You look beautiful.”
She blushes, something I can’t understand because she has to know how stunning she looks.
“Thank you,” she whispers, leaning closer.
I hold my breath, fearful this moment might be missed. But as soon as she is close to me, I get another waft of her breath and can’t hold in my wince.
She pulls back immediately. “Shit, I need to br
ush my teeth.”
“Yes.” I don’t lie.
“How can you have better breath than me when you actually vomited?”
“I gave my teeth a finger brush.” I leave out that I am barely breathing, just in case. “I can’t believe you were able to keep that drink in your stomach.”
Scarlett shrugs, moving to place her clothes from yesterday back on. “I guess I have a gut made of steel.”
I shake my head but follow her lead and get dressed.
In the kitchen, we hear voices and follow them until we see Harvey and Joey. Joey is absentmindedly using his foot to rock Michaela in her portable bassinet where she is asleep. Madden, their dog, is attempting to destroy a tennis ball in the corner, and on the TV is what I assume is a repeat of a baseball game, given the time of year. There is no sign of Nix, but since it’s still midmorning, I don’t expect we will see him anytime soon.
“Hey, Joey,” I murmur, eyeing the mug of what is possibly coffee that Harvey places down in front of me. I’m not sure I can trust any beverage he makes anymore.
“I thought you’d be feeling better since I heard you had Harvey’s infamous smoothie,” Joey says with a smug grin.
“You mean the toxic sludge?” I grumble.
Harvey grins at my description, not that I see much of it since he quickly turns his back on us. He grabs a second mug and passes it to Scarlett.
“I thought it tasted nice, and I’m feeling great!” Scarlett announces. Harvey’s eyes widen in surprise as she leans over and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for the coffee and for letting us stay the night. You’re a real sweetheart.”
He seems shocked by her outpouring, but she’s too busy worshiping her coffee to notice.
“So, what brings you guys here? Is Teagan around?” I ask Joey after the silence feels like it goes on for too long.
“Nah, I left her at home. I thought she deserved a quiet morning to herself.”
“That’s nice,” I say, liking that my friend has such a caring and thoughtful partner.
“Yeah, that’s me.” He gives me a wink, and I realize that isn’t all there is to it. “Plus, I get to annoy her by telling her that I’m stealing Harvey away.”
I roll my eyes just as Joey takes advantage of Harvey’s still shocked state by wrapping his arm around his shoulders and snapping a selfie of them together. Then he grins evilly as he taps away on his phone, no doubt sending the photo to Teagan with a caption about how close he and Harvey are becoming.
I’m certain it’s only Harvey’s shocked state that allows Joey to take the selfie in the first place. Unless Nix is with him, you tend you get a scowl out of Harvey for photos.
“Why is everyone yelling?” Nix asks as he stumbles out of the bathroom, his hair askew and uncaringly shirtless. He is rubbing his face, and there is stubble over half his face and sleep in his eyes.
“What?” Scarlett asks purposely loud.
Even I wince at that, and she gives me an apologetic smile.
Nix glares daggers at her before he gives Harvey his attention, kissing him quickly then stumbling around the kitchen.
I wonder why Harvey doesn’t get him a coffee like he did us.
Either Harvey can read my mind, or he feels the need to explain, “Nix has a particular way he likes his coffee, and apparently, I can’t make it well enough.”
“You make it too milky,” he grumbles without pausing.
“I barely put any in your cup!”
“Way too much.” He glances at us with an exaggerated eye roll.
Harvey shakes his head and gives up, moving to the couch.
Madden immediately heads over to him with her half-destroyed tennis ball, sitting by the couch so Harvey can scratch behind her ears.
Joey soon follows him, taking Michaela and sitting her on the coffee table so he can keep an eye on her.
While we are definitely not yelling like Nix accused us of, we are also not being exactly quiet, so I’m surprised Michaela is sleeping so well. Then again, she slept through most of Sasha and Declan’s wedding, so maybe they have a unicorn baby?
“I’ve been to Teagan and Joey’s house plenty of times, and every time that dog is nuts. How the hell is she so still right now?” I ask Nix, feeling sad when I take my last sip of coffee before Nix fills me back up.
“It’s Harvey,” he explains with a smitten smile. “He’s got a special way with dogs, apparently.”
“The dog whisperer,” Scarlett murmurs, closing her eyes as she takes another long sip of her drink.
“Something like that. I hope he’s ready to add to our family, because I’m going to get a rescue dog for us for Christmas,” Nix announces on a whisper.
“That’s awesome!” Scarlett gushes. “Congratulations. I suppose kids and marriage are around the corner then?” she teases.
Given that Nix’s complexion pales, this might be something he is not ready to discuss.
“Have you thought about what breed you want?” I ask, deciding to save Nix.
“No,” he says with a relieved smile. “I want it to be a surprise, though, so I can’t ask for Harvey’s input.”
“Wait. Christmas? We’re going to be in New Zealand for your mom’s wedding,” Scarlett points out.
“Yeah, he’ll get the surprise when we come home.”
They shift their discussion over to New Zealand while I deflate.
I forgot Scarlett was going. Nix’s mom fell in love with New Zealand last year after the debacle with Nix’s father, and then she decided she wanted a summer Christmas again with Nix and Harvey. When it was first suggested, Scarlett was invited, and there was an assumption that I would likely be tagging along. Now Scarlett is going without me, and no matter what happens here between us, we will not be spending Christmas or New Years together.
I find that incredibly disappointing.
Then again, if the trial isn’t over by then and there is potentially danger still surrounding her, New Zealand is probably the perfect place for her to be.
“You guys hungry?” Nix asks, breaking out of the New Zealand talk.
My stomach revolts at just the idea. “I can’t even think about eating.”
“I’d love some food! Let me make us something. You guys look awful.”
Scarlett bounces around the kitchen, not a care in the world, while Nix and I need both hands to stop ourselves from head-butting the counter.
“I don’t get it. She drank as much as we did, right?” he asks with a frown.
“Yep.”
“How is she like this? I’ve seen Scarlett hungover, so I know she isn’t immune.”
“I don’t know. She had Harvey’s drink last night before bed and thought it tasted good.”
Nix shudders. “No way is it humanly possible for anyone to like that drink. The only reason I have it is because I’m too drunk to properly say no when Harvey forces it on me, and because, deep down, I know it does cut my hangover time down. I still feel shit in the morning, but by the afternoon, I’m much better.”
I have to admit that me with a hangover means I’m never up before noon. The fact that I’m communicating and moving right now is a testament to Harvey’s vomit smoothie that has clearly worked miracles on Scarlett.
“We’re dating two aliens,” Nix whispers in my ear.
I laugh, although I get slight butterflies at the insinuation that Scarlett and I are dating.
I seriously need to have a proper conversation with her about our future, because everyone assumes we are together. I hope there is a chance that can happen, but for all I know, Scarlett just wants us to be friends.
Scarlett places a plate of crispy bacon down in front of us with French toast on the side before she begins cracking eggs into the frying pan.
Nix and I both nibble on some bacon, both looking wary of how our stomachs will react to the greasy food.
Harvey’s phone buzzes on the counter, and Nix glances over at it, checking to see what comes up on the screen.
/> I almost glance away, wondering what game the guys are so entranced with, but Nix’s shocked gasp and widened eyes makes me focus on him instead.
“What is it?”
“I … I think … I …” He shakes his head, grabbing Harvey’s phone and unlocking it with a code.
“What is it?” I ask again, leaning over to glance down at Harvey’s phone in curiosity and smile at seeing his background photo is of him and Nix kissing. It’s rather normal and benign for the hard-to-read man. But it’s the next picture that Nix brings up that has me gasping, too.
It’s a photo sent from Teagan of her wearing a lacy bra. The photo is only chest high, and while I can appreciate she looks smoking hot, I certainly don’t understand why the hell she’s sending it to Harvey.
“I don’t get it,” I whisper, suddenly feeling like maybe we are doing something wrong.
“Neither do—”
Nix stops speaking as we glue our eyes back to the phone as a barrage of new messages come in.
T: Shit! I meant to send that to Joey! OMG!
T: Harvey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to send this to you.
T: I am going to kill Joey for starting this.
T: Delete! Delete! Delete!
All these messages come almost at once, and I laugh, picturing Teagan freaking out right now.
“Well, that’s awkward,” Nix mutters, hovering his finger over the phone like he’s unsure of what to do. “Should we respond?”
“With what? Saying we’ll delete it?”
“Or you could mess with her?” Scarlett suggests, scaring the crap out of us by being unexpectedly behind us.
“No way, that’s cruel!” I argue for my friend.
“Nix owes her some grief after how protective she was of Harvey when they first got together. I say you should mess with her a little.”
“Harvey wouldn’t like it,” I tell Nix, hoping that will seal the deal.
“What Harvey doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Come on; just type back that her jugs look hot. That’ll confuse her.”
I begin to protest, but Nix is clearly listening to the devil on his shoulder today.
I lean over to see what he types in.
H: Nice bra. I have one in that same color.
I Blackmailed Her Brother Page 17
