Page 107 of Don't Puck His Best Friend
I slip out of bed and pad quietly down the hall to the bathroom. I don’t want Rex to bark at me and wake the entire house, but when I push open the bathroom door, I find Liam hugging the toilet bowl, vomiting.
"Oh God," I whisper, quickly closing the door behind me so the noise doesn't wake Cole or Finn.
"Are you okay?" I ask, knowing it's a stupid question.
Liam waves at me weakly, then heaves again.
I grab a cup from the sink and fill it with water, then wet some papertowels. When he's done throwing up, I hand him the water and clean the toilet seat.
"Drink," I say.
He scoffs. "Don't pretend to care about me now."
The words sting, but I understand them. I sit back on my heels, looking at him. "Drink some water."
He takes the cup and drains it, then immediately vomits it back up a moment later. It looks horrible.
"Thanks," he mutters.
I can't help it—I laugh.
His head snaps toward me. "You're laughing at me?"
"Sorry," I say quickly, biting my lip. "Sorry, that wasn't funny. I think I'm still a little drunk. And I really have to pee."
He starts to stand, but the movement makes him dizzy. He stumbles sideways into the wall, and I lunge forward to catch him.
"Whoa, easy."
But instead of steadying himself, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a hug. His full weight leans on me, and my heart starts racing.
"Liam," I say, trying to push him away. But he's tall and massive, and he clings to me.
"I know I said he's a good guy and you deserve to be treated right," he mumbles into my hair, "but I take it back, Trouble. I can't..."
"Shh," I interrupt, panic rising in my chest. "Come on, let's get you to the couch."
I manage to guide him back to the living room, supporting most of his weight. He collapses onto the couch, and I pull the blanket over him.
"Get some sleep."
His hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, pulling me closer. His eyes are unfocused but intense. "I'm serious, Trouble. If he screws this up, he's dead."
My pulse is hammering. "Go to sleep, Liam."
I tug my wrist free and back away quickly, needing distance. In the bathroom, I finally pee, but my hands are shaking. When I wash them, I catch my reflection in the mirror. My face is flushed, my eyes too bright.
Guilt crashes over me in waves. I didn't do anything wrong—I was just helping him. But the way he felt against me, the way he smelled, the way he held onto me, the things he said, the way my heart raced when his arms were around me... that feels like betrayal.
I crawl back into bed beside Cole, careful not to wake him. But sleep doesn't come. I lie there in the dark, listening to his steady breathing, feeling the weight of Liam's words pressing down on my chest.
I’m still shaking.
If he screws this up, he's dead.
But who is Liam really mad at? Cole for being with me? Or me for choosing Cole?
The guilt continues to fill me, seeping into every corner of my mind. I didn't do anything wrong, I tell myself again. But if that's true, why does it feel like I did?
