by Eden Finley
“Why not?” I asked, beginning to drive again.
“I don’t want you to see me like this.”
I laughed. “Shortcake, I have your vomit on my shoes. I’ve already seen plenty, and the fact I still want you to come back to mine speaks volumes. I don’t normally deal with puke, but I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“After trying to kill me, you mean? If I die, my headstone needs to read, ‘Killed by cheese.’”
At least she still had her sense of humour. “I guess you can tell Sara you win with bad dates. I bet none of hers poisoned her.”
She huffed a tiny, adorable laugh. “You’d be surprised.” She took in a sharp gasp of air and held onto her side.
“We’re almost home, okay?”
Nodding, she closed her eyes again.
By the time I pulled my ute into the underground car park of the apartment building, her forehead was covered in sweat.
“Are you going to be able to make it up the stairs?”
She grunted but nodded.
I got out and went around her side to open the door for her. She rolled out, but I caught her before she hit the pavement.
“You’re not looking too good, Shortcake.”
“Screw you!”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Sorry. Can you even walk?”
She nodded, but it was slow going all the way to the base of the stairs. At that rate, it was probably going to take us all night to climb them.
“Screw this,” I said, picking her up bridal style. “Just don’t throw up on me … uh, again.”
She threw her arms around my neck and nuzzled into my shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered.
I banged on the door with my foot when I reached the top of the stairs for Hunter to open up, but he either was out or couldn’t hear me. Paige wasn’t heavy, but I’d carted her up three floors; I was sweating and my muscles were aching. “I have to set you down to open the door, okay?”
She mumbled something unintelligible and was wobbly on her feet as soon as I put her down.
When I got the door open, she shuffled forward, still looking pale and horrible. “Bathroom,” she muttered.
I took her arm and led her down the hallway as fast as we could manage. After she puked some more in the toilet with me holding her hair back, she lay on the bathroom floor. I stripped her of her shoes and shorts, which were covered in vomit, all without protest from her. Then I took my shoes and khaki pants off and added them to the pile of soiled clothes.
“Come on, let’s get you in bed,” I said, reaching down to lift her up.
“I’m not really in the mood for sex,” she replied weakly, making me laugh. I didn’t know if she was joking or just really out of it.
I picked her up under her arms, and she wrapped her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck, laying her head on my shoulder. She clung to me like some sort of giant koala.
Carrying her into the bedroom, I sat her down on my bed, then removed her top, and dressed her in one of my shirts.
After she climbed under the sheets, I covered her with the blanket and kissed her on the forehead. She had a temperature. “I’m going to get you a bucket and some water. You need to stay hydrated.”
“Mmm,” is what she replied with.
After I grabbed the bucket from the laundry and placed it by the bed, I got her a glass of water and some ibuprofen for her temperature, but she shook her head and refused to take it. I gave up for the moment, changed my shirt, and dressed in my jeans, collecting all of our old clothes to throw in the wash.
By the time I put the washing machine on and went back into the room, she was asleep. At least, she looked like she was. I didn’t want to ask and disturb her.
Even though we probably just had the worst date in history, I couldn’t help loving the sight of her in my bed, where I was beginning to believe she belonged.
Then she sat up and vomited again.
14
- PAIGE -
Am I dead yet? No? Can someone please kill me then?
I awoke to voices in the hall. After vomiting for most of the night, I was hoping with all hope that I was over the worst of it.
Groaning, I tried to roll onto my back, but it turned out moving was a very bad idea. So instead, I stayed lying on my side, breathing deeply and praying I wouldn’t throw up again.
“It’s just food poisoning,” I heard Cole say out in the hall.
“Are you sure? When did you start screwing around with her?” Hunter asked.
“Like a few weeks ago.” There was a pause, then, “Don’t look at me like that. She’s not pregnant, you dick.”
“I’m just saying,” Hunter sing-songed.
I tried not to laugh because any kind of movement made me want to be sick again, but their conversation was hilarious.
“I’m not telling her to pee on a freaking stick. I sent you out for Gatorade, not pregnancy tests.”
“Guys, the walls are paper thin, remember?” I called out. They both charged into the room.
“You’re awake,” Cole said.
I tried to sit up but was too dizzy.
“Don’t sit up, sweetness,” Hunter said.
“I don’t think I can, anyway.” My head fell back on my pillow.
“So … uh …” Hunter started, holding up the plastic bag in his hand.
I smiled. “I’m not pregnant. I can assure you of that.”
“How are you sure?” Hunter asked.
“Well, if you must know, I had shitty girl disease earlier this week,” I said plainly.
“Shitty, what?” Cole asked.
I giggled, realising I’d used the term Sara and I use for it. “Well,” I started in a condescending tone, “every twenty-eight days or so—”
“You call your period shitty girl disease?” Cole asked, kind of shocked.
“Best description I’ve ever heard for it,” Hunter said with a laugh. “So you’re not pregnant?”
“Definitely not pregnant. Just off Camembert.”
Cole’s look of relief was expected, but it also seemed like he was feeling guilty.
“It wasn’t your fault, Cole,” I said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten all of it.” I smiled weakly.
“Probably best you did; otherwise, we both would’ve been sick.”
“Well, I bought you some Gatorade to hydrate, also bought you a toothbrush seeing as you’ve been vomiting all night, and the pee tests are there if you want them,” Hunter said, dropping the bag on the bed.
“Thanks. I think.”
“Anything for you, sweets,” he said, leaving the room.
Cole walked over and climbed into bed, lying next to me.
“What’s the time?” I asked, managing to roll over to face him. I still kept a long enough distance so he couldn’t smell my vomit breath, though.
“Eight AM.”
“Do you need me to leave so you can go to work?”
“I called in sick. I’m all yours today.”
“You didn’t have to do—”
“Think you can manage to brush your teeth and take a shower?”
“Maybe.”
He took out some Gatorade from the bag Hunter brought in, uncapping it and handing it to me. “You need to stay hydrated.”
“It’ll probably just come back up again.”
“You have to at least try. And you haven’t thrown up in like four hours, so you might be okay now.”
“I only stopped because I’ve got nothing left.”
“Are you always this big a pain in the ass when you’re sick? If so, that’s definitely going on my list.”
“Accidentally giving me food poisoning is going on mine,” I grumbled.
“So the fact you still need a list means even the worst date in history wasn’t enough to turn you off completely?”
I cracked a smile. “Maybe if you hadn’t looked after me all night, cleaned up my puke, and sent your roommate to buy pregnancy tests, it’d be easier to
dismiss you.”
The panicky expression on his face was hilarious. “That was all Hunter with the pregn—”
“I’m screwing with you. I think the whole test thing is hilarious. I don’t know him well yet, but I get the feeling it’s such a Hunter thing to do.”
He joined in on my laughter. “You seem to know him well enough”—he leaned in—“and I like the way you said you don’t know him well, yet.”
“Why?” I asked, innocently. I didn’t mean to put the “yet” on at the end.
“Because it means you intend on spending a lot more time here.” He brushed hair off my face with his hand.
I smiled, but knew I’d have horrible breath, so I brought the sheet up to cover my mouth. “I need to clean my teeth.”
He nodded. “You really do. Come on, I’ll help you.”
Cole helped me into the bathroom, where I managed to clean my teeth, but I needed to sit on the closed toilet lid, as I was too dizzy to stand for too long.
When I finished, Cole turned the shower on.
“I don’t think I can stand long enough for a shower.”
“I’ll hold you up.”
A groan escaped me. I really didn’t want to stand.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at me.
“Do you want me to throw up on you again?”
“Oh, ouch, way to wound a man.” He grinned, placing his hand over his heart. “A shower will make you feel better, and I promise to keep my hands … and other body parts in appropriate places.”
“Fine.”
Using the vanity to help push myself up, I stood as Cole came to my side. “Hands up,” he ordered, taking my shirt off. He helped me out of my underwear and into the shower, somehow managing to strip himself in between it all.
Once in the shower, he wrapped his arms around me and just held me. I rested my head on his shoulder and could’ve fallen asleep right there.
The warm water on my back felt amazing after a night of heaving that left my muscles sore and aching.
I don’t know how long we stayed like that for, but eventually he pulled away to wash me.
I wanted to say, “I’m not a complete invalid,” and do it myself, but I was enjoying his hands on me way too much for someone who had food poisoning.
Standing on my tiptoes, I leaned in, brushing his lips with mine. He pulled me close and kissed me back, but it didn’t have enough time to get too heated before he was pulling away.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Shortcake.”
I let out a sigh. He was right, I was too sick still. That kiss alone left me feeling dizzy and faint. I nodded. “I think I need to lie back down.”
He turned the shower off with one hand while he still supported me with his other arm. After he towelled us both off, he wrapped my towel around me and led me back to bed, sitting me on the edge. He walked out of the room and came back in moments later with my clothes from yesterday.
“Eww, vomit clothes.”
He laughed. “I washed them last night.”
“You washed my clothes?”
He simply nodded, brushing it off as if it didn’t mean anything. “Did the shower help?”
“It did, actually. I don’t think I’m going to vomit again anytime soon, but I’m still super dizzy.”
“Wanna get dressed and move onto the couch? We’ve got Netflix.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with me staying here? I could go home. I mean—”
He cut me off by kneeling in front of the bed, placing his body in between my legs. “I want you here.” Touching his lips to mine, he kissed me tenderly, as if he was worried I might crumble under him.
“I …” I started to say when he broke away. Only, I had no idea what I was trying to get out.
“I still don’t know what this is between us. It’s only been two weeks, but I don’t want to stop finding out where this could go. Even with the unfortunate events of our date yesterday, I want you here. If it were up to me, you’d stay the entire week.” He peppered kisses along my neckline.
“I think my clothes would need rewashing before then.”
“We can work something out,” he whispered, kissing my mouth again. It was too brief for my liking. “Come on, let’s get dressed and watch a movie.”
We changed into our clothes and headed out to the living room where Hunter was watching TV. “You’re looking a lot better than earlier.”
“Thanks.”
“Here, lie down,” Cole said, gesturing to the couch. He sat on the opposite end to where I put my head, raising my feet and putting them in his lap. “What do you want to watch?” He started flicking through the options when he stumbled across one that would be perfect.
“That one, Gale.”
“The Hunger Games? Really?”
15
- COLE -
“Your fascination with the Hemsworth brothers is going on my list. Seriously. I can’t believe you made me watch that. It was horrible, and Gale was hardly in it,” I complained.
“What list?” Hunter asked.
“Nothing.” I tried to cover my blunder quickly.
Paige, however, had no trouble ratting me out. She even had a smile on her face while she did it. “He’s keeping a list of reasons why he shouldn’t be with me. Apparently, the fact I think he looks like Gale is a negative, when really, it’s doing nothing but positive things for him. We may’ve never met if he didn’t look like him.”
My hands, which had been rubbing circles over her ankles and feet for the last hour and a half, stopped their movement as I tensed. Yes, we would have, Paige.
Her face dropped as soon as the words left her mouth, but it was too late. I guessed she hadn’t realised what she was saying until it was too late. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I forgot for a second.”
I nodded but turned my attention back to the TV which was only showing rolling credits.
“You guys are weird,” Hunter said. “I seriously don’t see the problem with you guys doing … whatever you guys are doing. Other than Reece freaking out, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“The worst?” I snapped. “You mean apart from her taking Cody away from me?”
“She can’t take him just because you’re dating her stepdaughter.”
“I’m not her stepdaughter,” Paige intervened.
“What I mean is, no judge would award sole custody just because you’re in a consensual adult relationship with each other.”
I shook my head. Hunter never really did get it. He didn’t condone my behaviour from when I was with Reece, but he didn’t understand the fallout from it. “I have a history of domestic violence; one embellished word from her and no one would allow me to see Cody again.”
Hunter glanced at Paige, looking for any sign of shock from what I just said. “You told her about the DVO?”
I nodded but didn’t elaborate on how much I told her.
Paige seemed to pale, but I couldn’t be sure if it was the conversation or food poisoning making her look like she was going to throw up again.
“Would she really do that?” she asked quietly. “I mean … she doesn’t seem like that type of person at home. Could she have changed since—”
“She hasn’t changed,” Hunter said. “I still see her weekly. Cole told me about her Stepford act, and I saw it for myself a few days ago when they turned up at the pub. I have to say, I feel sorry for your dad. He’s in for a rude awakening.”
“Stepford act?” she asked.
“Reece was always a party girl,” I said. “A little crazy, a lot bogan, and she loved drama.”
“Loves,” Hunter corrected. “You saw what she was like that night you two … uh, yeah … and how manipulative she was being—trying to set us up, putting Cole down. What you saw was just a taste of the real Reece.”
“She’s not like that at all at home,” Paige said. She sat up, facing me. “Why didn’t you tell me what she’s really l
ike?”
“And if I did, would you believe me or just think I’m some bitter ex? Also, why is it my place to say anything at all?”
“Uh, because she’s marrying my dad?”
“That’s his problem,” I mumbled. Hunter laughed, but I wasn’t actually trying to be funny.
“I … uh … I think I’m going to head back to bed for a while. My stomach is suddenly feeling queasy again.” She stood and started making her way back to my room. Still wobbly on her feet, she was taking her time.
I let out a sigh and looked over at Hunter who was shaking his head at me. “In trouble already, bro. Thought you said you weren’t going to fuck this up?”
A grunt left me as I stood to follow Paige down the hallway.
“Are you really feeling sick again?” I asked, standing in the doorway with my arms crossed. She’d made it back to bed and was sitting on the edge, trying to catch her breath.
“Are you calling me a liar?” Okay, that came out super harsh. She’s pissed.
“Is this going to be our first fight? Because it’s always good to get one out of the way early on. It lets you know what you’re in for.” I smirked at her scowl. It was kind of cute. “Like do you have the tendency to throw stuff? Am I going to have to hide the heavy things and put my years of dodge ball training from high school to the test?”
“I don’t want to fight,” she said exasperatedly, lying back on the bed.
“Oh, so you’re one of those people who likes to avoid conflict? Pretty sure I can deal with that.”
She shook her head. “Trust me, if I’m pissed, you’ll know about it. It’d come to your front door in the form of a petite, angry Sara.”
I laughed. “That is actually scary.”
Her smile faded. “For a moment there, I’d forgotten about Reece and Dad. It was just you and me.”
I joined her on the bed, lying next to her. “I know.”
She curled into my side and I wrapped my arm around her. She was silent, but it was as if I could hear her brain running a thousand miles a minute.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“I guess I keep forgetting what you’re putting at stake by dating me. Being reminded of it was kind of like having a bucket of ice thrown over my head.”
