Page 77 of Live for Me

Then I threw up everything that had ever been inside my body since the moment that I was born, including my organs.

I hadn’t felt that disgusting in a long time. It only took me another few seconds of attempting to stand before I decided I was better off just crawling right into the shower next to me rather than even consider facing Utah like this again.

It made me feel sick all over again to have to think he’d seen me like this to begin with.

The view I had in that mirror was not a pleasant one. So, I ignored it and turned the water on in the shower.

I remembered small pieces of the evening. I remembered spending entirely too much time with some random bar man, thinking it might make Utah jealous. I couldn’t for the life of me recall what he looked like. I remembered dancing with him. He touched way too much of me for someone I’d never met before that night. I very clearly remembered fake laughing at everything he said, just for him to end up saying that he loved the way that I laughed so much that he wanted to know what I sounded like while I did other things.

Then Utah popped up in the doorway to intervene.

My knight in shining perfectly controlled stability.

I knew I kissed him. I knew I wanted him. I felt how much he also wanted me.

But I really didn’t remember a damn thing between getting in that truck and waking up this morning.

The water from that shower was an instant relief for the pulsing in my brain, but there was no combination of water, shampoo, and body wash that was plentiful enough to wash away this kind of embarrassment.

He’d kissed me though.

And the way that he’d held me against that truck.

He kissed me again this morning, even while I looked like a tube of mascara jizzed all over my face.

I leaned my head against the tile wall in so much frustration. Everything about last night could have gone so differently if I hadn’t gone out of my way to spend so much of it with someone else just to see if Utah would react.

I was the actual fucking worst.

I stayed in the water until it wasn’t even remotely warm anymore before I pulled the curtain back to find a bottle of aspirin and a sports drink sitting on the vanity next to Utah’s flannel. He even folded my clothes from last night, brought them in here, and left my phone sitting on top of them. I hadn’t even heard the man open the door. Then I tried to remember if I’d locked it, but I figured not having to wonder whether or not he’d gotten in here that quietly through a locked door was way easier on my pained brain.

I touched the screen of my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed my time frame to text Jersey and then wrapped the towel around myself. I thought about stopping at Utah’s room again to give his flannel back to him, but I wasn’t entirely sure about facing him already.

Some part of me kind of just wanted to keep it anyway. So, I did.

I was disappointed that I couldn’t smell breakfast while I tried to silently sneak down the creakiest stairs in the history of the civilized world. No part of me was prepared to face Indy’s questions about the night. I shut myself in my room to get dressed and towel-dried my hair just enough to keep it from dripping.

I couldn’t explain how it was possible to feel like I was simultaneously starving to absolute deathandpainfully nauseated at the same time. But I needed food like I needed oxygen, immediately. I stopped before I ventured back out into the rest of the house though, and against my better judgement, I put Utah’s flannel on over the shirt I was wearing and tied it together in the front, so it wasn’t all the way down to my knees. I jumped when someone knocked on my door while I was rolling the sleeves up a little.

“It’s open.”

“Hey,” Utah said quietly while he opened the door. “Just making sure you were?—”

His eyes never even made it to mine. They stopped completely on his flannel.

Shit.

“Uh —,” I sputtered out. “Right. This isn’t mine.”

I started to untie the bottom again, but he was across the room to stand right in front of me in the blink of an eye, simultaneously shoving my hands away from the fabric.

“Don’t you dare take it off.”

I held my breath while his hand moved from the little knot at the bottom to follow the line of buttons all the way up between my breasts until my chin was between his fingers and his thumb.

“You are?—”

“Hungover,” I interrupted to prevent him from saying whatever it was that would finish that sentence. He smirked and my heart stopped. Utah leaned down to just barely touch his lips to mine before he backed away again. I grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him right back and I just stared at him until he smiled and kissed me again.

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