Page 96 of Until August
I squeezed my eyes shut, happy that he couldn’t see my reaction.
My heart ached for him.
I knew how much he loved his son and how happy he was to have him back in his life. I didn’t have children, but I could only imagine the pain he must be feeling right now.
“It’s going to be okay.” I rubbed his back in a circular motion as if he were a child that needed soothing. And I did the only thing I could.
I lied and prayed that it would prove to be the truth. “Everything will be okay.”
“I can’t lose him,” he said with a ragged sigh.
“I know. I know you can’t. You won’t lose him,” I assured him, even though I couldn’t guarantee that.
His arms wrapped around me, and he clung to me like I was his lifeline. This position wasn’t even remotely comfortable, but I stayed exactly where I was and let him hold on to me.
It had been so long since someone had needed me like this. I wanted to be there for him every step of the way.
But God, we were both such a mess.
Two people who had lost too much and couldn’t afford to lose more trying to keep each other afloat.
It was a disaster waiting to happen.
But if we went down, we’d go down together.
There was no way I would let him go.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
August
I wokeup with a pounding headache and a desert-dry mouth. Flinching at the light pouring through the cracked blinds, I covered my eyes with the back of my arm to ward it off. Anyone who believed alcohol was the answer to their problems was an idiot.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”
I moved my arm and blinked, unsure if the vision in the doorway was real or if I was dreaming. “Nicola?” I croaked as I sat up and leaned against the wall for support. I was shirtless in nothing but boxer briefs, my clothes from last night nowhere to be seen.
“Expecting someone else?” Nicola walked into the room and thrust a glass into my hand. “Drink this.”
“What is it?” I sniffed the drink. It made my eyes water. Smelled like vinegar.
“The answer to all your prayers. It’s the Benedetti special hangover cure. My brother swears by it.”
I took a tentative sip and grimaced. “Jesus.” My lips puckered like I’d just sucked on a lemon but then the heat hit me. Cayenne pepper? Ginger? No way in hell would I drink that. “That packs a punch.”
“Trust me. I was tempted to punch you more than once last night.”
Last night. My memories were hazy, but I remembered enough to know that I’d made an ass of myself. I shoved my hand through my hair and yawned. “You should’ve. I probably deserved it.”
“I didn’t want to hurt your pretty face.”
“Pretty?” I scoffed. “I’m not pretty.”
“You kind of are. It’s the eyelashes. I think they’re longer than mine.” She fluttered her lashes. She wasn’t the type to fish for compliments, but damn, she was so pretty. Stunning, really.
My eyes roamed over her from head to toe, taking her all in, from the long waves of hair to the sexy little number she was wearing—a silky black jumpsuit, shorts, not pants, that showed off her long, toned legs.
I cursed myself for being too drunk to appreciate her last night.
