Page 75 of Butterfly

“And how’d you know I was drunk, anyway? Are there cameras I didn’t find?”

He shook his head. “No. I missed you, so I ditched the guys to come here.”

Oh.

My heart—well, I guess it was his now—melted even more.

Still. “You’re interrupting girl bonding time,” I told him.

“Nah,” Lucy disagreed. “Getting laid is more important than us metaphorically braiding each other’s hair. Besides, I’m too drunk to do a braid.”

I flipped over, pointing at Lucy in accusation, the room spinning around me. “Betrayal!”

She giggled. “Thank me later,” she singsonged.

And then I was being lifted into the air.

“If you puke on me, I’ll take it out on your little ass, later,” he said.

“Sounds fun,” I informed him. “And I might. I’ve never had so much tequila in my life.”

“Fucking awesome. Are you staying?” he asked Lucy.

“I don’t want to deal with my roommates. Leslie, okay if I crash here?”

“My tiny bed is your tiny bed,” I said.

“I hope not,” Mason muttered, carrying me out the door and down to his car.

He had to pull over twice, because I puked twice. He held my hair back and rubbed my back.

He did that a lot that night. We spent more time in the bathroom together—this time wearing clothes. The room span, and my head swam, and the only constant, solid thing was Mason. I held tight to him like a life raft as the alcohol swept me somewhere terrible. I must’ve puked on him at least once, but unlike his threat, he never complained or scolded me, just got me into the shower, washed my hair, brushed my teeth for me, and helped me into his bed.

He disappeared briefly, then reappeared with a trash can, a bottle of coconut water, and some Advil.

“This should help,” he told me, uncapping the bottle and holding it to my mouth as he handed me the pills. I obediently took a sip, swallowed the pills, and chugged the sweet, fresh-tasting drink. Then I collapsed onto the bed and he got in with me, pulling the covers up over both of us.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” I told him.

“I’m sorry I overwhelmed you so much you drank almost half a bottle of tequila,” he told me.

“It was a small bottle.”

“Still.”

“I’m still worried. I don’t know how this is going to work. But, Mason…”

“I know, butterfly. Shh. Go to sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

28

LESLIE

My head hurt. My mouth hurt. My whole fucking body hurt.

I rolled over, bumping straight into a warm, naked body.

Mason. He mumbled in his sleep, nuzzling into my neck.

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