Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
RILEY
My head is pounding and my stomach feels like I’m strapped to a crazy rollercoaster of death.
Something hot gurgles up my throat.
Pain emanates through my entire body.
I launch to my feet, eyes barely cranked open and hurl myself into the bathroom. My hands are shaking and I barely get the toilet seat up before I collapse against the throne and empty the contents of my stomach.
When I’m done, the pain continues.
I crumple into a heap on the floor.
This is what you get for acting like you can drink, Riley.
I spent my entire life studying and working to be the best airplane repair technician in the room. Forget about building an alcohol tolerance, I barely had time to shower and come back to work.
However, I was upset about seeing Nat with Layla, so I indulged a bit. Now, I’m paying the price for my impulsive decisions.
When will this torture end?
A gentle hand falls on my back.
I stiffen. Who’s in my apartment?
“Oh, Riles,” a man says. His voice is deep and cracks slightly as if seeing me on the ground is heartbreaking.
I look up slowly.
Nat?
I jump back, but not far because I’m too weak to make a fuss. Confusion laces my voice as I demand, “What are you doing in my apartment?”
Nat’s hand suspends in the air and his eyes widen when he looks down at me. “You gave me the key.”
“I did?”
He tilts his head. “You don’t remember?”
I squeeze my eyes shut.
I remember seeing him in the bar with Layla.
I remember drinking a lot more than I normally do.
I remember Cordelia asking me if I wanted to go home with Nat and I remember firmly telling her no.
Then…
I shake my head, but that makes my brain slosh around in my skull, so I stop immediately and bend over with a hand to my stomach.
“I brought you some water,” Nat says.
In any other occasion, I would never accept that cup. I believe in bathroom germs. The moment either food or drink is introduced to the air in a bathroom, it is—in my opinion—immediately contaminated.
But today, I thirstily drink from the cup.
My stomach gurgles loudly.
I’d be embarrassed if I wasn’t in so much pain.
“Did that help a bit?” Nat asks, his voice so low that I have to lean in to hear him.
“It still hurts,” I mutter.
Sure, I don’t quite remember how Nat got here, but I’m so glad I don’t have to endure this atrocious discomfort on my own.
“I checked your medicine cabinet, but you don’t have any stomach medication, so I texted Renthrow. Between him and Cordelia, I’m sure they have a mini-pharmacy stashed somewhere.”
As Nat speaks, I have a flash of a memory.
Him, helping me up the stairs.
Me stumbling on one of the steps.
Him putting me on his back and carrying me the rest of the way.
I shake my head. Did that really happen or am I recalling one of my memories of him as a child?
Before I can dig deeper, an overwhelming pain shakes my body and I scramble to the toilet again.
Nat kneels next to me.
He pulls my hair back to keep it out of my way while I’m face-forward over the toilet.
He pats my back gently.
He coos ‘you’re okay, Riles’ and ‘just let it out’.
When I’m done the second time, my belly is much calmer, but all of me is weak. I can barely lift my head up.
Nat withdraws and I reach out to him, instinctually wanting him close. Then I realize that I don’t have a right to be clingy and I let my hand drop.
My eyes fall shut and I focus on breathing in and out. Nat will need to leave eventually and then I’ll have to take care of myself. I need to regain my strength quickly.
With my eyes closed, I’m tuned in to every sound that Nat makes.
His footsteps pounding on the tiles.
Water splashing into the sink.
The squelch of a cloth being squeezed.
A moment later, I feel Nat’s presence again and then a wet rag touches my mouth. I struggle to pry my eyelids apart and fall into a pair of worried green eyes.
“Who told you to drink so much?” Nat scolds. His words are sharp, but his voice has no bite to it. Keeping his touch light, he moves the rag to the other corner of my mouth. “Why drink if you can’t handle it?”
I want to argue that I can handle it.
But in this current state, we’d both know that’s a lie.
Nat returns to the sink, washes out the rag and comes back. This time, he picks up my hands and wipes them. Every so often, his fingers scrape against my inner palm and send electricity skittering up to my heart.
“What am I going to do with you, Riley Carter?” he mumbles.
Kiss me.
It’s a ridiculous thought, but it makes my pulse roar in my ears. What would Nat do if I bent over right now and just… popped a kiss on his lips?
In the bathroom next to the toilet you just threw up in?
It’s a good point.
But I still resent the intrusion.
Honestly, where was this snooty voice of reason when I was overdoing it at The Tuna? Why is he jumping out with all the common-sense advice now?
Nat gathers me up by my shoulders and helps me stand. “Are you okay? Is the room spinning?”
“I’m okay,” I croak.
He leads me, step-by-step to my bedroom, and I am horrified when I see the state of the place. I wasn’t expecting company when I rushed out this morning.
My clothes are piled up in the corner, right next to my laundry basket. Automechanic training manuals and equipment workbooks are scattered all over the desk in a haphazard heap. The drawers that house my clothing are open, the tank tops and pants clearly ruffled through and unfolded.
I stifle a gasp of horror when I see my bra, cup facing outward, winking at Nat from the top-left drawer.
Please tell me this isn’t happening.
Nat’s fingers are firm and warm on my upper arms as he helps me sit on the bed. He must think I’m an undisciplined, messy drunk. How do I get him out of my room as fast as possible?
While I’m freaking out, Nat calmly falls to his knees in front of me. His large, steady hands wrap around my ankle and lift my leg to balance on his knee.
I jerk back on instinct, almost kicking him in the head.
Nat looks up, his handsome face calm and unruffled. Moonlight filters through the curtains in my bedroom, shading his jawline in silver.
“I’m taking off your shoes, Riles.”
“I-I’ll do it,” I argue weakly.
Nat holds firm and gives me a look that sends a delicious tingle down my spine. I know the good-natured Nat. The do-anything-for-a-laugh Nat. The hide-his-pain-behind-a-smile Nat. So who is this take-charge, do-what-I-say-while-I’m-asking-nicely Nat?
And why do I like him?
I shrink back and Nat proceeds to untie my steel-toed work boots. He slips it off my feet as if it’s as dainty as Cinderella’s glass slipper and then he reaches for my other foot and rests it on his knee. Nat removes the second shoe with the same tenderness and looks up at me.
The jolt of adrenaline that shoots through my heart when his green eyes connect with mine sobers me instantly.
I hiccup.
Nat pretends not to hear. “Do you still feel nauseous? Can you lie down?”
I bite down on my bottom lip, too hyper-aware of him to speak, so I simply nod.
“Did you eat anything before you drank tonight?”
I hesitate and then I shake my head. After that hard conversation with Nat, I hadn’t been hungry.
I tried my best to get out of the ‘welcome party’ Rebel invited me to, but she refused to hear any excuses and claimed that I’d been in Lucky Falls too long without hanging out with The Pink Garage mechanics.
My plan was to stay at The Tipsy Tuna for a short time, make an excuse and leave, so I hadn’t ordered any food.
That was the wrong choice given how much I drank tonight.
“Drinking on an empty stomach? What were you thinking, shrimp?”
I was thinking that I regretted pushing Nat out of my office and that I really wanted to take it all back and beg him to forget I ever said anything. That I’d happily love him from afar while suffering in silence.
“Why do you make me worry about you?” Nat leans forward and brushes a lock of hair behind my ear. The briefest skim of his fingertips on my face makes my entire body heat up. I barely stop myself from running my nose against his palm like a puppy to its owner.
Come on, Riley. Have some class. Didn’t you promise you weren’t taking this road again? Didn’t you say all these grand things about being an adult and having your own agency and not living your life for a man?
Did I?
It’s hard to remember while I’m staring into Nathan Campbell’s beautiful eyes. Anticipation and promise buzzes in the air around us. My eyes dip to his lips which are closer than they’ve ever been.
My heart picks up the pace.
And the question I shooed away in the bathroom comes slinking back like a shy cat, brushing my ankle and daring me to notice it.
What would I do if Nathan Campbell leaned over and kissed me?