Page 45 of Match Penalty

"She mixed her drinks," Kendall explains. "Shots, a sugary martini, and then wine. She’s not feeling well. I tried to see if she wants to go to the bathroom with me but—”

“I’ll just get a cab and go home. You girls stay,” she says.

"I've got her," I tell Kendall, Brynn, and Aria, who are all hovering. I wrap an arm around Cammy's waist. "I'll make sure she gets home safe."

Brynn eyes me carefully, then nods. "Text me when you get her settled?"

“I will.”

I pull her with me, spotting Scottie getting up to head to the bathroom. He sees me and asks, “You two okay?”

I nod. “I’m taking her home. Can you and the guys make sure that all the Hawkeyes girls get home safe?”

He nods. “Of course. We’ll make sure of it.”

I help Cammy outside, grateful for the cool night air. She leans heavily against me as we wait for a cab, and I try not to think about how right she feels in my arms.

It’s fucked up to be enjoying that, for once, she’s not fighting me.

"I don't feel so good," she mumbles against my chest.

"I know," I say softly. "Let's get you home."

“And this is annoying.” She pushes her hair out of her face a couple of times.

“Your hair?”

She nods, and then I remember that I have a way to fix that, though I’ve never done this before. I reach around her, pulling her green hair tie off my wrist, and then try to gather every strand together on the top of her head. It looks like a bird's nest with perfectly curled tendrils falling out of it, but it’s the best I can do. I wrap the hair tie enough times that I know it will at least stay out of her face until she feels well enough to adjust it.

“My hair tie? But I thought it was your lucky charm?” she says. She’s not fighting me, and I can already tell that she’s more comfortable with her hair out of her face and off of her neck.

“I’ll get it back from you later. And anyway, I think it needed a re-charge.”

There is a small content sigh that comes out of her, against my chest as I wrap my arms back around her.

The cab arrives, and I give them the address to The Commons. As I get her into the elevator, she tells me she left her purse at Brynn’s because she was going to crash there tonight. She only brought a credit card and her cell phone. She doesn't protest when I guide her up to my apartment or when I help her to my room.

"Here," I say, leading her into my walk-in closet. "You'll be more comfortable in one of my shirts. Pick out whatever you want to wear. I’m going to make you some chamomile tea. Maybe it will settle your stomach.”

I leave her in my closet and head for the kitchen, giving her time to find what will be most comfortable for her.

By the time I heat the water, steam the tea bag, and put a little honey into it, she is asleep in my bed. She looks like she’s always belonged there.

I set down the tea and some saltine crackers on the nightstand—just in case. And then I pull the comforter up over her shoulders and pull back the hair that’s fallen into her face.

"Thank you," she murmurs, half-asleep. "You're not so bad sometimes."

I smile, brushing hair from her face. "Get some rest. I'll be on the couch if you need anything."

“Why'd you have to go and screw it all up?" she murmurs, her words slurred but filled with raw emotion. "I thought... I thought you were different.”

My heart clenches. This mess is of my own doing. I should be sliding into bed next to her. Holding her against me and kissing her goodnight.

"I'll earn it back. I promise,” I say, pulling my comforter higher up over her shoulder. "However long it takes."

She's asleep before I finish speaking, but I mean every word. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for that night in San Diego if she’ll let me.

Because Cammy Wrenley is my end game.

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