Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Dean
I swear to god, if I open my eyes I’ll rip my eyelids apart like tissue paper and bleed to death.
And my mouth tastes like ass. Almost like I crawled out of my own grave still spitting out the dirt.
I think someone tried to murder me with an axe to the head before I was buried. And once again, my body just refused to die, and has left me to deal with what’s left of it.
I hold my splitting forehead together and take a few deep breaths to calm my roiling stomach.
I am never drinking alcohol again. Ever.
I’m pretty sure I drank enough Jose Cuervo to cure my liking for it for the rest of my life, and, now the weird sense of invincibility it gave me has faded, it’s definitely not worth it.
I risk cracking open one eye. The light hurts, but I can see I’m in my own bedroom, at least, and not piled on Leo’s sofa or under one of his hedges.
I guess Eli saw me home. I sure as shit don’t remember getting here.
I close my eyes again because everything is too damn bright, and the next thing I know, I’m waking up again because I can hear my door opening.
Quiet footsteps creep carefully towards me, and something is placed on my night stand.
A gentle hand smooths my sweaty hair back from my face.
“Eli gave me the spare key,” Em whispers to me.
“There’s a pint of water and two ibuprofen next to you.
Have both as soon as you can. And this,” something rustles and makes me wince at the razor sharp noise, “oops, sorry, is a McDonald’s breakfast bagel.
No egg, the way you like it. It’s a magic hangover cure, I promise.
” Her footsteps retreat towards the door. “Hope you feel better, sweetie.”
I can smell the sausage pattie and the bacon in the bagel, and to my surprise my dry mouth starts to water and my stomach growls with hunger rather than revulsion.
Thank god she left out the egg. If I feel even slightly unwell, eggs will make me want to toss my cookies, and I don’t need any more encouragement there.
I grope for the glass of water and take a cautious sip, relieved when it’s obvious it’ll stay down.
Once I’ve taken the painkillers and drained the glass, I risk a bite of breakfast, and it is indeed a magic cure because I’m on the road to feeling more human by the time I finish it.
Human in that Lurch from The Addams Family was still vaguely human, but at least I’m no longer dying.
And even in Lurch mode, I can still be a clean mess, so I head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower.
The mint refreshes my mouth, and it’s a relief to be drenched by the hard spray of hot water, washing away the grime and residue of last night.
The briefest of flashes start coming back to me: the soothing burn of the booze, the amazing burger sauce, the music…
…the music …
…telling Eli how awesome Liaden is and how much I like her, and… Ohhhhhhh fuck .
I didn’t.
Tell me I fucking didn’t.
Roughly rinsing off the last of the soap and shampoo, I race out of my bathroom, not even bothering with a towel and shivering with what feels like a cold sweat, I pull my cell out of my jeans pocket.
Oh, shitting HELL.
So many reacts in my notifications. Because I posted a YouTube video of In These Arms . On Liaden’s goddamn page . Right on her profile, and I tagged her for good measure.
Oh, and let’s not forget the comments I made. All twelve of them.
This is the song I would sing you if my voice wasn’t fucked …
Leo and Sadie both hearted that one, the jackasses.
Liaden hasn’t reacted to any of them. And I can see she’s definitely online, so she must have seen them. That can’t be a good sign. Fuck, what if she never comes back because I’ve made her uncomfortable?
Motherfucking idiot . How can I have been so stupid?
My inner tirade is interrupted by a knock at the front door. I’d growl if I still could. Not now, jeez… Maybe if I don’t respond, whoever it is will go away.
But they knock again, because life never lets up, so I grab a towel and wrap it around my waist. It’s gonna be either Eli making sure I’m still alive, or Leo coming over with Starbucks with a side of air horn, because he’s done that in the past on the rare occasions I’ve been out with him.
He’ll get whatever nonsensical over the top grande unicorn latte he’s bought dumped on his head if he even tries.
It’s neither of them, though.
Liaden looks happy to see me as I drip on the floor in front of her, in nothing but a towel.
Hot damn . Her hair is draped over one shoulder, pointing to the words on her purple sweater: Solve the riddle: one of the words in this sentence is misspelled .
Her jeans look almost painted on, and she’s a total dream, standing there in a nightmare situation where I have to face her before I’ve managed to get my head straight.
I was going to spend a while coming up with the right words to apologize for the way I put her on the spot on her Facebook page.
Now I’m the one on the spot, and I’ll have to think fast.
My face heats with embarrassment, and I go redder still as she looks me up and down, a slow grin spreading across her ridiculously pretty face.
Crap . My cock starts to twitch under the towel because apparently the fucker likes the way she’s scrutinizing my near naked body. If I don’t do something fast, I’ll also be apologizing for an obvious boner in about ten seconds .
I grasp the towel tightly around me with one hand, and with the other, I manage to sign, One minute . I leave the front door open so she can come in, and then dash into my room in a semi-panic, scrambling for any clean clothes I can lay my hands on while my mind races to fix my fuck-up.
“Don’t feel like you have to put clothes on just for me,” she calls teasingly.
I freeze for a second. No. I can’t have heard her correctly.
How can I explain it to her without causing her any further embarrassment? I was very, very drunk … True, but implies I’d have to be in order to want her, and the last thing I’d ever do is insult her. Especially when I’d give my left ball for the chance to be hers just for a single night.
Leo did it as a prank… Come on, do better. She’s a genius, she’d never be fooled by that. And besides, why would Leo bother to do such a thing unless he knew there was a fire to stoke? Plus, he deserves better than to be thrown under the bus like that in my pathetic attempt to save face.
I have no idea what you’re talking about, I must have left my phone unattended when I went to the john, and maybe somebody… Worst. Excuse. Ever.
Taking a couple of slow, deep breaths, focusing on moving my stomach in and out the way some therapist taught me along the way, I think about just telling her the truth.
That I got over-confident after a heavy night drinking, and I’m sorry I humiliated her like that in front of all her Facebook friends.
That I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable around me, and I promise to delete the post and never do it again.
And that if she doesn’t want to see me anymore after her tattoo is finished, I’ll understand.
My chest tightens at that thought. But I’m the one who’s shown my ass in public, and there are consequences, prices to be paid.
One more deep breath and I force my legs to move and head out there to face the music.
She’s looking at the books on my shelf, and the way she smiles when she turns her head and sees me standing there…let’s just say I’m gl ad I’m wearing more than a towel. She doesn’t look angry, or uncomfortable. Just the opposite, in fact.
That might almost be scarier.
Hey. Sorry about the towel. Thought you were Leo or Eli, or I wouldn’t have… I tug my shirt.
Her dimples show. “Feel free to add me to the list of people you can go shirtless around." She winks, so I guess she's probably kidding.
There’s a heavy silence, and she looks at me expectantly, probably waiting for me to start my apology. It’s seriously good of her to come over and allow me that chance, so we can clear the air and get back to normal as soon as possible.
Focus.
I’m so, so sorry about last night, on Facebook. Liaden blinks in surprise. What the hell does she think of me? I’d had SO much to drink, and I just … I flounder, looking for the right words. I took it too far, and I swear I meant no disrespect.
She signs back. What was that last word?
I finger spell d-i-s-r-e-s-p-e-c-t, and she nods. It won’t happen again . I really hope you can forgive me, and we can forget it ever happened.
“Was that ‘forget’?” she asks, and I nod. She bites her lip, looking deflated. “Oh.”
Shit fuck god damn it. I’m sorry , I begin desperately.
“It’s fine. We can rewind and go back to…normal. It’s just…” She puts her hands in her back jeans pockets, which pushes her tits forward in a way I am an absolute scumbag for noticing. “Damn it. I was hoping maybe you’d kiss me now.”
Liaden
Was that the wrong thing to say?
I can’t tell. He’s staring at me with his mouth slightly open, looking like I just clonked him around the head with a sledgehammer.
With that, and the way his hair is still dripping and his t-shirt is clinging to his damp skin, he looks edible.
But he’s also frozen to the spot, and I wonder if my runaway mouth has scared him.
I was regularly admonished as a child and a teenager for being too blunt, and I never really understood why that was wrong.
Why not just say what you mean? Isn’t that simpler and more straightforward than always prevaricating?
I analyse the words I just said to Dean, and they communicate exactly what I wanted to express. So why am I getting nervous myself now?
Why am I squirming as his eyes lock with mine?
Why is the air crackling, alive with the possibility of what we could share if we just take that chance?