Chapter 23
LAILA
Jesus.
I attempted to sit up in bed then winced.
My head felt like there were thousands of elephants stomping inside it and my mouth was drier than the Sahara Desert.
I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this terrible.
For a second I questioned why but then flashbacks of last night popped into my head.
Almost kissing Gabriel on the boat.
Juliette telling me to have a great time with my sexy Frenchman.
Ordering wine.
Drinking way too many rum and Cokes at the bar.
Looking at photos with Gabriel.
Calling him hot. Cringe.
Squeezing his bicep. Double cringe.
Then him taking me to my room…
Shit.
I couldn’t remember whether he put me to bed or if I did it myself.
We didn’t do anything, did we?
I quickly lifted up the blanket to check I wasn’t naked.
Thankfully, I was still wearing the outfit I had on yesterday.
That was something at least. God knows what else I’d said or done though. Maybe it was a good thing that I didn’t remember the full extent of how badly I’d embarrassed myself. Especially seeing as I still had to face him at this morning’s briefing.
Fuck. I was probably late for that. I really should get up and go there right now, but I wasn’t even sure if I’d be able to make it to my bedroom door, never mind up to the rooftop.
Just as I was about to check what time it was, bile rose in my throat. I jumped off the bed, raced to the bathroom and managed to get my head over the toilet bowl just before I threw up.
Ugh.
After washing my mouth out, I dragged myself back to bed. The room was spinning, the earthquake in my head hadn’t subsided and my stomach was still churning. I needed something to settle it. I attempted to reach for the phone, but felt too weak.
‘Laila?’ a voice called out from the door before knocking. ‘It’s Sammie. Are you okay?’
‘No,’ I attempted to call out. ‘I need… help me.’
‘We’re coming in!’ Sammie said. Seconds later I heard the door open and saw her rush towards the bed. ‘Oh, God, what’s up?’
‘I think I overdid it last night. And now I feel sick,’ I groaned.
‘Sorry, honey. We’ve all been there. I’m glad Gabriel asked me to check on you.
He was worried when…’ Sammie’s phone started ringing.
‘Shit. Sorry, I have to take this. Hello? Yeah, I know. I just had to… okay. I’m coming now.
Laila, I’m so sorry, but I have to go. Gabriel’s at the door.
He wants to make sure you’re okay. Can I let him in? ’
Ordinarily I would say no way, José. I wouldn’t want Gabriel or anyone to see me like this, but I was desperate. And considering how much I’d embarrassed myself last night, he’d already seen me at my worst.
‘Okay. Thanks for checking on me.’
‘No worries. I wish I could stick around. Gabriel,’ Sammie called out. ‘Please take care of her.’
‘I will.’ I heard his deep voice echo around the room before he stepped inside and Sammie left, closing the door behind her. ‘How are you feeling?’ Gabriel said as he stood at the foot of the bed. ‘Can I get you something? Perhaps some water?’
‘Please. Thanks. I should’ve listened to you when you said not to mix my drinks.
I can’t believe I drank champagne then red wine, white wine, then more wine, then all those rum and Cokes and…
’ Just thinking about all the alcohol I’d consumed made the bile rise in my throat again.
‘I’m going to…’ I jumped up, raced into the bathroom and dropped in front of the toilet.
My braids tumbled past my shoulders. The hairband I had in earlier during my first round of puking must’ve fallen out. And because I didn’t put myself to bed, I hadn’t wrapped it in a silk scarf like I normally would.
Great.
Now I was going to get sick over my braids too.
Gross.
Just as I was attempting to push my hair out of the way whilst trying to focus on not throwing up in front of Gabriel, I heard his footsteps in the bathroom.
‘Gabriel!’ My eyes popped with horror. ‘You need to leave, I’m going to be sick, I can’t…’
I tried my hardest but I couldn’t hold it back.
I couldn’t believe I was throwing up in front of him.
But just as I expected him to run out of the room in disgust, he knelt down behind me. Then I felt his hands on my braids as he gently pulled them back and away from my face.
Wait, what?
Then I felt him rub my back.
I wanted to thank him but I couldn’t speak.
When the wave of nausea stopped, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to catch my breath so I could talk.
‘Thank you, but you really should go. It’s disgusting and it smells.’
‘I do not care,’ Gabriel said, still rubbing small circles on my back. ‘I am not leaving you. Come on. Let it all out. You will feel better once you get it out of your system.’
I attempted to hold back, but seconds later another wave of nausea hit me. Then another. And all the time I was literally spilling my guts, I didn’t feel Gabriel flinch or pull away. He just held my hair and his soothing strokes told me that he meant what he said – he wasn’t going anywhere.
That was so unbelievably kind and… unexpected.
Whenever I was sick, no one ever helped me. Not Ricky, my own flesh and blood, and definitely none of my exes.
Once, when I had food poisoning and was doubled over on the toilet, one of my exes asked what time I planned to cook dinner because he was hungry and wanted to eat before he went to the pub to meet his friends.
Yet Gabriel was sitting on the bathroom floor with me, holding my hair back and insisting that he wasn’t leaving, despite how gross the toilet bowl looked and smelt.
Mind. Blown.
Eventually, when I was sure I’d finished, Gabriel gently lifted his hand from my back, then passed me a tissue.
I was mortified, but too weak to do anything other than accept.
After I’d wiped my mouth and flushed the toilet, Gabriel helped lift me onto my feet.
I shuffled to the sink, where I washed my hands, before rinsing out my mouth then brushing my teeth. When I attempted to walk back to the bed, Gabriel stopped me.
‘Let me,’ he said before scooping me into his arms, carrying me over to the bed, then putting me down gently.
I looked up at him, my eyes wide, trying to take in everything he’d just done.
There wasn’t disgust, horror or judgement in his eyes, only care and concern.
This man.
‘Drink this.’ He handed me a glass of water. ‘I will call room service and ask them to bring some peppermint tea and food. I know lunch probably feels like the last thing you want right now, but you need to eat.’
‘What about the briefing?’ I asked weakly.
‘The briefing finished over an hour ago. I was worried when you did not arrive.’
‘Shit. I didn’t realise it was so late. We have to go to the location. Otherwise, we’ll lose points!’
‘It does not matter,’ Gabriel insisted. ‘The most important thing is that you are well.’
‘What was the clue anyway?’ I asked.
‘I will tell you later.’
‘No, please. Tell me now.’
He sighed, then reluctantly pulled out his phone.
‘The clue was: Built in 1889, this is one of the most visited monuments in the world, welcoming around seven million visitors every year.’
‘It’s the Eiffel Tower! I’ve been waiting all week to go there and now we’ve missed out because I have a hangover. I haven’t had one since I was a teenager bingeing on alcopops and cheap wine.’
‘You have not had a hangover since your teens?’ His eyes widened.
‘Nope. That’s the thing about having a kid so young, you have to be sensible.
Dealing with a hangover at any age is hard, but having one when you’re the only person responsible for keeping your child alive would be asking for trouble, so I always made sure I didn’t drink too much.
And then here I go stupidly attempting to make up for it by drinking decades’ worth of alcohol all in one night!
’ I shook my head, disappointed at how irresponsible I’d been.
‘It is not a big deal. You were upset. It happens. Like Sammie said, I am sure that everyone has felt the way that you do right now.’
‘Have you?’ I asked. ‘When was your last hangover?’
‘I do not really have them. In France we learn how to drink alcohol from a young age. I should rephrase that.’ He laughed and the low rumble made my heart swell.
‘I made it sound like we are drinking wine when we are babies! What I meant was, from a young age we are used to seeing our parents drink a little wine with a meal. Here we drink for enjoyment and pleasure, not to get drunk.’
‘Unlike the English?’ I cocked an eyebrow.
‘These are your words, not mine.’ He laughed.
‘Yeah. I guess there is the stereotype of us Brits falling out of pubs or bars drunk. Some do, of course, but some don’t.’
‘And I am sure that people from every country do the same. Speaking of food, I will order lunch for you now, then you must get some rest.’
‘I’ll eat something quickly, then we can go to the Eiffel Tower.’
As much as I wanted to protect my friendship, I really, really didn’t want to go home.
Plus, if I was being honest, every day that I stayed here and spent time with Gabriel my resolve weakened.
Resisting him before was hard enough, but now, after the way he’d just helped take care of me, it was feeling impossible.
‘Non. Forget about the tasks. If you are feeling better, we can catch up tonight or even tomorrow. Your health is more important.’
Butterflies flooded my chest at how kind Gabriel was.
I nodded, then stared at him like a lovesick idiot as he called down and ordered food and tea for me in his ridiculously sexy French accent.
When lunch arrived, I devoured it in record time. Then I must’ve fallen asleep because when I woke up and checked my phone it was after seven in the evening.
I bolted up in the bed and when I looked up I saw Gabriel sitting on the sofa reading a book.
‘You stayed?’ I frowned.
‘I wanted to make sure you were okay. How are you feeling?’
‘Much better, thanks. I’d like to go and do the task if there’s still time?’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive!’
‘D’accord. I will organise a car. I will leave you to get ready.’
‘Great!’ I said as he walked towards the door. ‘And Gabriel?’ I said. ‘Merci beaucoup.’
‘De rien,’ he nodded then left.