34. Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kat
Staring in the oddly gilded mirror in the oddly fancy bathroom I wondered how I had gotten here.
My dumb drunk ass was just now realizing I could’ve lied.
I could’ve fucking lied. I could’ve just stared Becca dead in the eye and let my face tell her whatever the hell it wanted while patently lying to her face.
But I didn’t want that.
I just also didn’t want her to have forced the issue, either. She should probably learn to stop doing that where I was involved.
It never went well.
But it was too late now, so I might as well just abort mission, sneak around the girls still having girl time, and try to hide with Henry. That might work.
With a very flimsy plan in place, I exited the bathroom with a full head of steam. I had hoped to scurry right on past, but instead I didn’t make it through the doorway.
I boinged off a solid warm chest and ricocheted back into the bathroom, the alcohol removing any chance of me catching myself once the heels had their say. This was going to hurt. The tile didn’t look particularly squishy.
I was flailing in a super elegant fashion, smacked into the wall and something a little less solid, making my bad hand smart like a motherfucker.
But I didn’t hit the floor.
Or the wall, fully.
But my drunken knight in shining armor did. Henry wasn’t sober enough to have caught me without teetering a little, and he now had his back to the wall, me sprawled on his chest. I caught his wince.
Immediately, I struggled to get off of him, knowing I’d hurt him. Knowing his ribs had to be fucking killing him now.
He refused to let go of me, instead helping me stand upright, following suit soon after. I was awkwardly patting his chest and sides softly, whispering ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again.
“Kat, I’m okay. It’s okay,” he said slowly. I wasn’t sure if the speed was due to pain or alcohol. I looked up at his face, trying to suss it out. His face was a little drawn, but he seemed to be handling it.
“You sure?” I asked quietly. He nodded.
“But I did hurt you, right?” I asked again. He hesitated. He was too drunk to lie to me effectively. He nodded, just once.
“Let me see, Henry,” I tried, my hands going to the buttons of his shirt. He laughed, grabbing my hands very, very gently. He shook his head.
“Kat, no,” he emphasized. I stomped my foot.
“Why not?” I pouted. He laughed, pulling me toward the door.
“One, because I’m fine. Two, because if you start unbuttoning my shirt, I’m locking that door,” he said, gesturing to the aforementioned door.
Oh. I flushed slightly, looking down at my slightly dirty shoes.
Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I looked back up at him, and whatever he saw on my face made him smile.
I reached for his shirt again and he snagged my wrists, tugging me toward the door.
“Come on, you,” he chuckled. I looked up at him innocently.
He laughed again. He carefully held the door open for me, letting me pass under his arm.
He slipped his arm around me when I wobbled in my damn heels.
I saw Becca watching us from the bar, but I couldn’t read the expression on her face from this distance.
Henry leaned down and kissed me on the temple, then gestured at the closed bathroom door.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, love.”
Miraculously, Becca let us walk past without a comment.
But before we reached the couch, I felt a gentle tug on the back of Henry’s jacket.
I turned around, and it was her. I’d spoken too soon.
I hesitated, and I felt Henry turn to save me from his persistent sibling.
I laid a hand on his forearm, though, letting him know it was alright.
“Just a minute, please,” she pleaded. I nodded, and we moved off to the side, out of earshot of anyone else. Even though I could tell Henry was tempted.
I stood there, my one good arm wrapped around me, waiting. Hesitating. Feeling slightly attacked and therefore self-protective. So, I waited.
“I’m sorry for pushing. Again, I guess,” she started. I nodded. She did like to do that a lot.
“I’m drunk, as my husband has since informed me.
And I just… I shouldn’t be saying anything,” she continued, glancing anxiously over my shoulder.
I looked where her gaze had gone, and I was met with the watchful gaze of her husband, brother, and sister-in-law.
I quickly glanced at Henry, but he was laughing with Andrew on the couch.
“I shouldn’t be saying anything. But I am.
Because I wasn’t around. Back in the day.
I didn’t know you. But I’ve been told enough, now.
And I see how the two of you look at each other when you are DAMN sure the other isn’t looking,” she said slowly, gauging my reaction. I kept my face completely impassive.
“And I just wanted to say, I honestly never thought my baby brother would ever find someone that could compete with racing,” she said sardonically. I opened my mouth to say that wasn’t what I was trying to do, at all. But she held her hand up, a smile on her face.
“And he didn’t. He found someone who understood it. Had lived it. Loved it. Because of course he did,” she chuckled. I opened my mouth again, but she stopped me again.
“I’m almost done, then you can be rid of me. We’re leaving. Because Sofia and I are much too drunk and the assholes have the kids ALL night, so we really don’t want to be HERE, if you catch my drift.” I smiled, then winced. Didn’t need that visual.
“I just wanted to say that I know he doesn’t know about, well, it seems like anything that happened that night.
And it’s your choice when to tell him. But it should be a ‘when’.
Not an ‘if’. Because he deserves to know.
And more importantly, you deserve for him to know.
Because he already looks at you like you hung the moon.
And he doesn’t even know,” she finished.
Yes. He doesn’t know because I didn’t want him to know. I didn’t want him to know what his sister had so easily conned out of me tonight. I shook my head. She gave me a sad little smile. Leaning in to give me a tight hug that I did my best to return, she whispered one last thing in my ear.
“Please do it soon, though. Because I love Sofia to death, but she knows nothing about racing.”