Page 18 of The Right Guy
In a flash, he was before me with the bucket. I lurched forward and emptied the contents of my stomach, then closed my eyes.
Nine
Peas in the bed?
“Ugh!” I moaned, flopping my forearm over my brow. “What died in my mouth?”
My lips smacked, needing moisture, and my cheek pushed into cold plastic. The blazing sun burned through my slit eyes when I squinted. I poked the cool lumpy bag nestled on my pillow and raised it to eye level. The writing was blurry. Then I flopped it over to study the thick font, only to unleash a bunch of defrosted peas, all pelting my face. “Peas?”
I dropped the half-empty bag and flicked smudged green mush from the mattress. I examined my surroundings and immediately recognized the intricately carved trinket box on the shelf at the foot of the bed. I was in Theo’s bedroom.
The handcrafted box was carved by Theo’s own hand, made from a lump of driftwood he found floating on the low tide. He made it for me to store all the pretty shells he collected on the beach. I guess it was his way of reverse psychology. It contained an assortment of sparkly, obscure treasures, probably around a hundred by now. He said each tiny shell was like me, unique, rare and eye-catching. That’s why he’s my best friend because he says cool stuff like that, following it up with his signature sexy wink. I’d never thought it was sexy before, so why now?
“That’s weird,” I muttered, having never slept in his bed before. And oddly enough, I’d had the best night's sleep ever.
The alcohol must have knocked me out, or else it was the heavenly cotton sheets that smelled homely and familiar. When I usually crashed at Theo’s, I slept on the man-sized couch, where we often drifted off tosleep while watching a movie together.
“Theo?” I grumbled, noting the thumping ache in my head.
“Right here.” I carefully rotated to find him. His brawny body occupied the doorway, and he stood between the hallway and his bedroom, arms folded.
“How did I get into your bed?” I tossed the sheet aside and saw my torso covered in his favorite skull tee. “Theo. What. The. Fuck. Did. I. Do?”
“You threw up in a bucket on the deck, smacked your head on the sliding door, and passed out. There was puke on your clothes. I put a bag of frozen peas on the swollen bump at the side of your head.”
My cheeks flushed a thousand shades of pink. “I’m so sorry.”
“Do you remember?” His voice was low, laced with curiosity. “Before…”
My mind was foggy and groggy and wedged up my ass. “Oh, shit!” I gasped, bringing my fingers to my lips. “Ro kissed me.”
How did I feel about that? He went to the party with Fia. He cheated. He stole a kiss from me and pretended like it never happened.
I covered my eyes and groaned. “Oh, Theo. A bunch of assholes threw me into the pool at Lux. Fully dressed. Everyone saw.” I slung the pillow over my face. The cotton held a hint of muskiness and freshness. It was Theo. His cologne, his bed, his lips on my mind.
My cloudy thoughts were tricking me into believing Theo and I had kissed. I was actually visualizing Theo’s lips clinging to mine in place of Ro’s. My cheeks puffed out, blowing off the absurd idea. Ro kissed me, not my best friend.
I flung the pillow away. Theohad gone. I tapped myroots,finding the curls pulled back in a stretchy band. “Huh?” I muttered.
I’d become a character from a shitty zombie movie, delicately raising myself from the dead. My brain pounded and rang, weighing heavier than a brick. “Theo,” I called, then winced at the loudness of my voice. “What will bring me back to life?” Silence. "Who sucked out my organs through my belly button?”I continued. “Please don’t let me have shots again. Ever.”
Nothing. No witty retort or tablet torpedo aimed at my head.
“Theo?” I called again when my bare feet hit the wooden floor. “Are you huffing because I’m wearing Skully?” I tiptoed along the corridor to the sitting room. There he was, hip dipped to the glass on the deck, his ringed fingers gripping a mug of steamy coffee, and the tips of his long black hair skimming broad shoulders.
I held back, watching him study the shore in deep, thoughtful contemplation. My heart squeezed. The ocean made me edgy, but his quiet mood was uncomfortable. I cupped my hands and huffed a breath. Not the freshest. The dull ache in my brain spread over my brow. This was my first drunken episode, the first vomiting incident, in his home no less, and the first time I’d woken up in his bed wearing his tee.
With an apprehensive exhale, I ambled up behind him and pressed my palm to his arm. “Thanks for looking after me.” I smiled shyly. “I’m sorry I got shit-faced and made a dick out of myself.”
He just grunted. Then silence, except for a light wind agitating the chimes hanging overhead with a breezy melody.
“Theo?” I peeked up at him, unsure why he was acting indifferent. “What’s wrong?”
His heavy sigh signaled something was off. “Nothing. It was a long night, that's all. I stayed awake to watch over you while you slept—in case you were sick. You passed out over there.” He nodded to the wooden slats near the doorway. “I tied up your hair, rubbed your back, and carried you to bed.”
“You should haveleft me out here.” I chuckled.
“I considered it. But I wouldn’t let my princess sleep outside, alone, in her vomit.”
