Page 52 of Only Fate

I almost fall out of my chair and over the trash can when the door chimes. Out of all the times for someone to come here, it would be when I’m puking. It doesn’t help that I’m at the reception desk, so there’s no hiding from them.

I rest my head on my arm, too weak to raise it to see who’s here.

“Yikes. You don’t look so good.”

My breathing falters when Adriankneels in front of me.

I’d do anything to melt into this trash can.

“Thank you for stating the obvious,” I grumble.

Dizziness washes through me, and I grip the desk to lift myself. I stop when another wave of nausea hits me. Adrian hurriedly clasps my hair in his hand, holding it back while I vomit again.

“Come on,” he says when I finish, his voice gentle. “I’ll drive you home.”

I shake my head but allow him to help me up. Even when I’m balanced, he doesn’t release me.

“You need to rest, Essie,” he adds. “You can’t work if you’re vomiting all over your paperwork.”

I bow my head, swallowing leftover vomit. “Hard pass on you knowing where I live.” My response is rude, but I’d rather he leave me in my misery than see me sick.

“Either I sit here with you or take you home.”

I somehow gain the strength to raise my chin and glare at him. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to finish last night’s conversation, but now, I want to get you home to rest. Now, come on. It’s pointless to stay here, miserable, and you won’t get any work done anyway.” He cradles my arm and walks me outside to his car.

His car smells like fresh oranges and his cologne.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t create more nausea.

It actually puts my stomach more at ease.

“Don’t save that,” I say after rambling off my address and watching him key it into his car’s GPS.

Adrian’s body brushes mine when he leans across me to buckle my seat belt. “You sure don’t have good manners toward someone helping you.”

“Your help has ulterior motives.”

He snorts while buckling himself. “And what are my ulterior motives, Essie?”

I chew on my bottom lip.

Adrian shifts the car into drive. “I’ve never had ulterior motives with you. All I’ve ever wanted to do was help.”

I slap a hand over my mouth, and Adrian brakes when I tap the console. He swerves to the road’s shoulder. I throw open the door and vomit.

A kid on the sidewalk brakes on his bike and yells, “Ew!” before riding off.

Adrian opens the glove compartment, drags out a handful of napkins, and hands me one.

“Thank you,” I whisper, wiping my face.

When I’m sure I’m all puked out, I fall back into the seat. Adrian holds out a bottle of water for me.

“Thank you,” I say again. I swish the water in my mouth and spit it outside. Very ladylike, thank you very much. I do it two more times until my mouth feels as clean as it’ll get.

Adrian silently waits until I shut the door and sag into the seat.

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