Chapter 10
10
Holly
I wake to knocking on my door. When I turn my head to check the time, it feels like my brain is rattling around in my head. I cup my head in my hands and groan. Ugh, why did I drink all the cocktails?
Another knock comes, more insistent this time.
“I’m coming.” I cringe at my own raised voice. Jeez, whoever is on the other side better be here with the threat of impending doom or they’ll be meeting their own doom really soon.
I squint at the light in the room. Even though there are blackout curtains on the windows, it still feels like lasers are piercing my retinas, causing my head to pound even more. My tongue is as dry as sandpaper and sticks to the roof of my mouth. God, how much did I drink last night?
When I open the door, Aaron stands on the threshold with a shit-eating grin and a cloche. The smell of food makes my stomach roll, and I place a hand on my belly, willing it to settle down.
Aaron’s grin slips from his face as his eyes rake over me. I frown down at myself. Oh shit. I’m not wearing pants. I slam the door in his face and grab my robe from behind the door. Aaron’s laughter comes through the door as I tie the belt and reopen the door.
I glare at him. “That wasn’t very gentlemanly.”
He pushes past me into the room. “Never said I was a gentleman. How are you feeling this morning?” That stupid smile of his says he knows very well that I’m feeling like death. I run a hand through my hair, which is sticking up at all ends. Just fucking wonderful.
My initial instinct is to lie and tell him I feel great, but the truth comes barrelling out. “Like death. God, why did you let me drink so much?”
He sets the cloche on the desk and sits down, much like he did the day before yesterday. Has it only been two days since I got here?
“As I recall, you don’t take well to being told what to do. Besides, you assured me you could drink me under the table.”
Groaning, I plop onto the bed. When my butt touches the mattress, all I want to do is give in to my body’s urge for rest and lie back, pull the covers over my head and sleep for a year or two.
Then it hits me. When I get drunk, I get very loose-tongued and affectionate. Celine teases me about it all the time. When I’m buzzed, I tell her how much I love her and value our friendship until she threatens me with my life to shut up. She loves me, but yeah, she has her limits. What if I told Aaron how I felt? Heat creeps into my cheeks at the thought.
“Um…did I say, uh…or do anything to embarrass myself last night?”
I am quite literally dying inside. If he tells me I did, then I’m getting on the first flight out and not back to South Africa. I would move to some godforsaken island with no inhabitants and find a volcano to throw my phone in on the off chance someone could reach me.
His face softens as he leans back in the chair. “Not at all, Trouble. Much to my disappointment.”
The relief is overwhelming, but what does he mean by that?
“Right, you need to eat,” he says, standing again. “We have a full day ahead of us.”
I rest my hand on my forehead. Oh God, someone kill me now. I remember I insisted we decorate the inn for Christmas. And even though Aaron argued it was too soon, I said if the shops had their lights up, then the inn should too.
Stupid, drunk, Holly. I guess I went for Santa’s Little Helper instead of Cupid last night.
“Is there any way I could convince you to take mercy on me and my drunk tongue?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. I already got the boxes out of the storeroom. Plus you told everyone in the bar you were going to—I quote—‘jingle the shit out of the place’.”
I narrow my eyes suspiciously. “How do I know that’s what I said?”
“All right fine. Your actual words were ‘jiggle the shit out of the place’. I was trying to be kind.”
Okay, yeah, that sounds like something I’d say. Fuck my life. Oh no, what if he was being nice about the other stuff? What if I really did embarrass myself? He must see the panic on my face because he starts chuckling. “You can relax, Trouble. You only spoke about jiggling. Now, come and eat.”
“I don’t suppose you brought your utensils with to share.”
“Not this time. Haggis and black pudding aren’t to my taste. But my mum insists this will help with your hangover.”
Bile rises up my throat. Oh God, I’m going to be sick. On a good day, I wouldn’t be able to tolerate haggis and black pudding. Never mind when just existing is turning my stomach.
Aaron throws back his head and laughs. “I’m joking. I made you some toast and brought you a banana. I’ve been where you are, the banana will help.”
I stand and walk toward the cloche. “What’s with the secrecy then?”
“I wanted to fuck with you.”
I roll my eyes, and even that hurts. “Just give me the banana.”
He lifts the lid, revealing a banana cut into bite-sized pieces. “Look at you being all sweet. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were growing up.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Just didn’t want to watch you eat a banana whole. You know how my mind can get.” He winks.
I flush. “Can you leave so I can get ready?”
“You undressed in front of me last night, I don’t see why you can’t dress in front of me.”
My eyes widen with horror. “W…What?”
“Don’t worry. I was the gentleman you are always accusing me of not being.”
“Yeah right.”
“Fine, don’t believe me. Next time, I’ll record it.”
“There isn’t going to be a next time.” I stab a piece of banana with my fork and pop it in my mouth. The minute the fruit hits my tongue, a fresh wave of nausea hits me. I cover my mouth with my hand.
“Trouble, are you okay?” Aaron asks. “You better not puke on the carpet or Mam will come after you with the wooden spoon.”
I shake my head and make a dash for the bathroom, slamming the door before leaning over the toilet to vomit.
“I take it we’re going to put ‘jiggling’ on hold then,” Aaron says through the door.
I can tell he’s trying not to laugh. Ass. When I open my mouth to tell him what I think, I get struck by an attack of dry heaves.
Wonderful. As if my mortification isn’t punishment enough.