Chapter 18 #2
“Were they?” I asked when Sully let out a snort of his own from the front seat.
“I think we dated,” Rebel muttered, drawing my attention to him.
Now I sat there staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “You and Knightly? What the hell did you see in that dick?”
“Shouldn’t question be what saw in me?” Rebel asked, stunning me into silence. “He’s right though, ‘bout that song. We should write it. Me and you. Blissfully Buzzed.”
“I doubt you could hold your guitar tonight, let alone play it.”
“Tomorrow then,” he muttered.
“Fine, we’ll have brunch in your room and see about getting started on it.”
“Bring your electric drums.”
“I’d planned on it.”
“Tequila is not my friend.”
“It’s not mine either,” I replied. “And we will be using that as a line.”
Rebel’s words were nearly impossible to make out when he spoke next. “Couldn’t say no.”
“Why not? You said no for me when he tried to push me to join you guys."
“Not then. Meeting him. Splitting the bottle. Couldn’t say no. People were watching.”
“So?”
“Got a rep to maintain,” he muttered. “Always the band’s party boy.”
“You might need to think about revamping your image,” I replied, drawing an Amen from Sully from the front seat.
When Rebel didn’t reply, I realized that he’d slumped down lower in the seat, having finally passed out.
At least he’d done it in the car on the way back to the hotel, rather than in the bar where he’d probably have wound up under the table.
Sully pulled the SUV up to the side entrance of the hotel and got out.
“I’ll get him,” Sully said as he carefully opened the door and sat Rebel up while I unbuckled his seatbelt.
“I probably should have said something to him sooner about stopping,” I mused as Sully carried him in.
“You’re not responsible for his choices,” Sully said.
This time of night, no one was around to witness our trek to the elevator, which was already on the ground floor, which meant no waiting either.
A short ride later we reached our floor, and I followed Sully to the door of Rebel’s hotel room and fished Rebel’s wallet out of his pocket to retrieve his room key since he was deadweight in Sully’s arms.
“Peel those blankets back,” Sully said when we reached the side of the bed.
I did as I was told, drawing them as far down as I could without pulling them completely off the bed.
“I’ve got it from here,” I told Sully as he laid Rebel down.
“Alright, I’ll be outside the door if you need anything.”
"Thanks, Sully.”
“It’s what I do," Sully said before leaving the room.
Rebel didn’t so much as twitch as I wrestled off his boots, socks, jeans, and t-shirt before pulling the blankets up over him.
Like he’d done for me, I placed the garbage can beside the bed, but there was no water in his fridge, just pop and lemonade, so I grabbed one of those and set it on the nightstand, then tried to hunt up some Tylenol.
While it wasn’t a mess in there, I had no clue where he kept it, so I turned out the lights and started to leave when I heard him mutter my name.
“Why are you awake?” I asked when I returned to his bedside.
"Sayin’ sorry.”
“For what?”
“Knightly being a prick.”
“That’s on him, not you.”
“Still sorry.”
“Go to sleep, Rebel.”
“Stay.”
Groaning, I pressed a hand to my face, because the pleading tone hit me straight in the feels.
“I’m not sleeping on the couch,” I said. “Damn thing is so narrow I’d roll off and wind up on the floor.”
“King-sized bed.”
“Yeah. I’ve got one too. Just down the hall.”
“Please.”
Now how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that?
“Fine, but if you puke on me, you’re going to owe me big time.”
“Eww, not one of my kinks,” he muttered, throwing one arm over his eyes as I turned on the lamp so I could undress.
Wallet, phone, mini-notebook; I emptied my pockets and placed the contents on the nightstand while he grumbled about the light.
“Give me a minute; I’m almost done,” I said, hurrying to drop my clothes in a pile beside the bed before climbing in.
“Not how I planned to get you in my bed,” Rebel slurred as I pulled the blankets over me and tried to get comfortable.
A part of me wanted to roll on my side and hold him, but I didn’t want to accidentally pin him down on his back in case he vomited and choked. Shit, he probably shouldn’t sleep on his back, now that I think about it.
“I put the trash can beside the bed if you need it,” I told him. “Why don’t you roll over so you’re closer to it?"
“Feels like déjà vu.”
“Yeah, it does, only I’m not the one who’s going to wake up with a hangover,” I reminded him as I scooted closer and draped an arm over him.
“Nice.”
“Uh-huh, now go to sleep.”
“Like you.”
“I hope so, or things will be awkward in the morning,” I said.
The next thing I knew, he was holding my arm tight, like he was afraid I was going to let go of him and leave once he passed out again.
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Stayin’.”
A short time later all I heard out of him was a low snore, while I lay there in the dark, hoping I wasn’t going to get my heart stomped on in the end, since I was well past the point where I’d be able to stop myself from falling for him.