Chapter 17
By the time we pull up to Belle’s flat, she looks a lot less angry and a lot more green around the gills.
“I’m going to take Indie back to our flat,” Camden murmurs, looking down at Indie asleep on his shoulder. “I leave for Manchester at the end of the week, so…”
His voice trails off and my stomach drops at his mention of Manchester.
In all the craziness of the past week, I completely forgot this weekend is when Arsenal plays at Man U.
My two brothers will be facing off. Not only is it a pretty sticky rival, but Gareth is a starting defender and Camden is a striker. This is a huge weekend for my family.
Belle nods and hiccups. “Take good care of her. Make sure she has aspirin before she passes out. Tequila Sunrises give Indie a massive headache.”
She moves to get out of the cab and I don’t like how she’s looking. In a split decision, I decide that my family stuff can wait and I get out after her.
“What are you doing?” she croaks, trying to shove me back in.
“I’m coming inside.” I bat her hands away from me. They remind me of fluttering moths.
“No, you’re not.” She stomps her foot and tries to push me again.
“Yes, I am. You’re pissed and I don’t trust you to take care of yourself.”
“Bloody hell, you’re so overbearing!” she exclaims and then her eyes go wide as I move closer to her. She covers her mouth with her hand for a split second before bending over and retching all over the pavement. She cries out pathetically, “I got puke on my hand.”
I grimace, stepping away from the splatter. “Like I said, I’m coming inside.”
I help Belle up to her flat and unlock the door for her. She trudges straight for the stairs, not even bothering to take off the knockout boots she’s wearing. I tell her I’ll be right up and pop into her kitchen to get her a glass of water.
As I stand at the sink, I pull my mobile out to reread the twenty texts I fired off to Belle in a blind panic earlier this evening.
Indie had texted Camden over two hours ago saying she and Belle were completely pissed and she wanted him to come dance with her so she didn’t have to dance with anyone else.
Camden’s a bit of a possessive sod, so he texted her back immediately, asking where she was.
Then she never replied. So he made me text Belle to find out where they were. Not wanting to come off too clingy, I kept my texts light at first.
Tanner: What are you wearing? Want me to come check it out?
Tanner: Need a dance partner? You know I have great moves.
After an hour of nothing, they got less cute…
Tanner: Where are you guys?
Tanner: Camden is worried about Indie. Text me back.
Closing in on hour two of Operation Find Belle and Indie, my texts were a little more like:
Tanner: You ask me to text you and then you blow me off. Real mature.
Tanner: Belle, I am your fucking boyfriend. Fake or not, the least you can do is text me back.
Tanner: TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE. NOW.
Thankfully, Camden had an idea of where to start our search and we lucked out at Club Taint.
Though, seeing that loser with his hands on Belle did not please me.
She was clearly pissed and he was clearly taking advantage.
Say what you want about my history with women, but I would never take advantage of a situation like Belle’s.
Thank fuck I showed up when I did. And then she had the cheek to fight me when I told her we were leaving. I am not pleased.
Ready to rip her a new one, I pause before I leave her kitchen, turning around and grabbing her a couple of chocolates out of her cubby. I may be angry, but I’m not a monster.
When I come upstairs to give her a piece of my mind, I find her hunched over the toilet with her head resting on her arms. Her long, booted legs are tucked up under her butt and her dress is riding so high I can see her arse hanging out of her thong.
It would be hot…if it weren’t for the whole vomit/toilet conundrum.
“Why are you still here?” she groans and begins dry-heaving, her hair slipping out of her feeble grasp.
I set the glass of water down and grab a hair tie off the counter.
“Because I’d like to make sure you live through the night.”
She rolls her mascara-smeared eyes. “I’m drunk Tanner, not dying.”
I shake off her argument and bend over to scrape her hair back away from the toilet bowl.
“Stop messing with my hair,” she groans. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Hush,” I chastise. “Haven’t you seen my awesome mane? I’m an expert.” I ball her inky hair up into a messy bun and tighten it just as she begins puking again.
I kneel down behind her, rubbing her back in small circles, feeling the heave of every breath she takes. I hear her weeping a bit between retches, so I bring my other hand up as well.
God, puking is the worst. Self-inflicted puking is double worse.
After a while with no more upchucking, she inhales deeply and flushes the toilet again. I move with her as she drops off to her side, sidling up next to me against the wall. I stretch my arm over her shoulders and she tucks into me with a tremble.
“My breath stinks.”
“No it doesn’t,” I murmur and pull a chocolate out of my pocket.
“You’re a liar and a thief,” she mumbles, deftly unwrapping the dark bar.
My chest rumbles with silent laughter. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I grabbed them for you.”
“You have no power over my knickers, Tan.”
She looks up at me, nibbling on the sweet. Her lips are close, and it’s a strange sensation to want to kiss her right now after she’s been puking for the last twenty minutes. I kiss her forehead instead.
She tucks her head back against my chest. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
“It’s no big deal,” I reply, realising I kind of like taking care of her.
“And sorry for fighting with you like that. You were just trying to help.”
My brows lift, surprised by her apology coming so easily. I thought for sure she’d make me fight for it. “I needed to make sure you were safe. You weren’t safe tonight.”
“I know,” she moans. “I just…I miss Indie and I got carried away I think.”
A sympathetic look creases my brow. “She misses you, too. She talks about you all the time you know?”
She looks up with a childlike smile. “She does?”
I nod. “We’re on the road together a lot, so there’s plenty of time for talking. She’s incessantly singing your praises. At work, as a friend, whatever. It’s completely mental because you two are bloody flatmates and you act like you’ve got countries separating you.”
She sighs. “We’re best friends.”
I nod. “I get it.”
“Is Camden your best friend? You two seem to have a rather natural bromance about you.”
I huff. “I suppose so. But it’s different for brothers I think. And with him at Arsenal and me at Bethnal…we’re changing.”
Belle giggles. “God, we’re a couple of pathetic mopes, aren’t we? Moaning over people we miss in our lives and we can’t even have sex with them.”
This makes me laugh. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you and Indie have a go at it.”
“Gross!” she exclaims. “Better, you and Camden get busy. I can just see Twin Brother Dearest blowing up as the next hot new romance novel.”
“God, you’re disgusting,” I chuckle.
“You like it.”
I squeeze her to me and trail my hand down her back in smooth, comforting motions. We settle into a natural, comfortable sort of silence on the bathroom floor next to the toilet. It’s peculiar but something that feels right in some ways.
“I think I’m good to go to bed now.” Belle’s voice interrupts my brooding.
I nod and stand to help her up. I watch her as she brushes her teeth, eyeing her handbag on the floor in the bathroom as we walk out.
She slips into her closet and changes into a long cotton T-shirt.
I strip down to my boxer briefs and tell her I’m going to go use the loo one last time before we go to bed.
Closing myself in the bathroom, I riffle through her bag until I find her mobile.
Swiping the screen, I’m grateful to see there’s no lock on it as I pull my text messages up and delete all the crazy-sounding ones.
After that, I tuck it away and ignore the fact that I’m trying way too hard to look cool.
When I slip into bed, she curls up next to me like it’s the most natural thing ever. I guess I just let it be because, all in all, this hasn’t been the worst night of my life.