Page 27 of Trustfall

I look back over at Luke and he’s not wearing a shirt, but his boxers are pressed against me. I look down. I’m still in my dress from last night and I’m wearing underwear.Thank fuck.

“Did you—I mean—did we?”

“Fuck?” he asks casually. “No, Emory. I’m not in the habit of having sex with inebriated women. Especially when they’re unconscious.”

Relief floods my chest. “Right. Well, I didn’t think you would, but you're half-naked in my bed, and your…situation is nudging me.”

Luke lets me go, letting out a low laugh, and I turn to face him. “My situation?”

“Yeah, you know, your…that.” I make a vague attempt at gesturing to his groin.

“Can you not say the word dick, Emory?”

I feel the blush spreading up my cheeks. “Of course I can.”

“Then say it.”

“Icansay it. I just don’t want to,” I clarify.

“Hmm…we’ll have to change that.” His voice is gravelly, and I’m about to ask what he means when a burst of blind panic coils in my gut. Am I so afraid of intimacy that the mere mention of the word ‘dick’ gives me anxiety?

No, that’s not just anxiety. I’m gonna be sick. I roll off the bed and run to the bathroom, making it in time to spill the contents of my stomach into the toilet. I’m still hugging the bowl when someone kneels behind me and starts rubbing soothing circles on my back. There’s no way that Allie randomly overcame her emetophobia and is comforting me.

I turn around, and sure enough, Luke is on his knees beside me, rubbing my back. He has a shirt and jeans on now, which is a relief, because although it is unfortunate that he is seeing me like this, it would be even worse if I had to look at his naked abs right now.

“You don’t need to be here,” I say as I grab a piece of toilet paper to wipe my mouth.

“I want to be here,” he says, and I can tell he’s not just being polite. But I’m still mortified as I think about the ridiculous state he found me in last night. All the things I may have said to him.Admitted.

“This can’t possibly be your idea of a good time,” I say as I stand up.

“Seriously, I don’t mind. Bartender, remember? I’m not scared of a little puke. I’ve seen way worse.”

“Well, that is comforting.” I wash my mouth and brush my teeth, then rinse again with mouthwash a few times for good measure. I want to ask him more about the bartender thing and why he quit his job in the city to move back here, but now doesn’t seem like the right time.

Luke holds out a bottle of water and two pills.

“Think you can keep these down? You’ll feel better.”

“I’ll try, thanks.” I grab the pills and take a big gulp of water.

“Slower,” Luke orders. “You’ll throw up again if you drink too fast.”

How did I not realize how bossy he can be? I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and set the water bottle on the counter. “Hey, who is the medical professional here?”

He chuckles. “You got me there, Little Wells.”

I smile, but my face falls when I realize I have no idea what time it is. “Shit.” I run back into my bedroom to check my phone. It’s after nine.Fuck. I have to be at work in thirty minutes.

“Luke, I have to get ready for work. And—you have to go.” I start pushing him towards the door when I notice his jacket strewn over my desk. I grab it and push it into his chest.

“Whoa, there. Are you throwing me out right now?”

“Yes. No. I mean—well, yes. I’m already going to be late for work, and I can’t get ready with you here. You’re too—” I stop myself before I say something else mortifying, but he doesn’t let it go.

“Too what, Emory?”

“Distracting,” I settle on because that’s the least embarrassing way to describe what he does to me when he’s around.

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