Page 100 of Unspoken Hearts
“Nah,” Laynie lets out, grinning at me. “It’s girls night, and as much as Grayson wants to be a part of it, he’s not a girl.”
“Sometimes he acts like it,” I murmur under my breath, taking our drinks over.
Delly and I play some Uno while Laynie busies herself in the kitchen. She was born to make people food, and I think she enjoys it more than she lets on.
Rich tomato, salt and garlic fills the house, and my stomach feels like it’s throwing punches. Grabbing a generous serving, we go sit on the couch, and Laynie flicks on the TV to an old rom-com movie. We all squeal, digging into the beef spaghetti while laughing and cheering at the TV when the man finally asks her out on their first date.
We’ve definitely seen this movie before, but it’s a classic.
“Laynie, this is so good,” Delly murmurs through a mouthful.
Laynie just sniffs a laugh, silently agreeing with her.
“I reckon Grayson wants to be invited to girls night because he secretly loves these movies, but he can’t watch them with his brothers,” I blurt out, gaze still on the screen.
Both Laynie and Delly look at me before giggling. “Definitely. He once told me—”
I peer at Laynie for her lost words when she covers her mouth, drops her half eaten plate on the table and bolts out of the room.
“L!” I shout, following her.
Coming to the bathroom in the hallway, she’s bent over the toilet, retching up everything in her stomach.
I close the door behind me before getting on my knees, scooping up her blonde hair with my hands and murmuring, “Just let it all out.”
She keeps going until there’s nothing left in her system, slumping against the tiled wall. I flush the toilet and wipe her face with paper.Touching her forehead, she doesn’t feel clammy, and her skin isn’t glistening with sweat, but her cheeks are definitely flushed.
“Are you okay?”
Breathing slowly, she shakes her head, eyes blinking at me slowly like that took all of her energy. “No,” she coughs out, chest continuing to heave.
“Do you want some water?”
Her head shakes again.
“Okay. A shower might help?” I offer optimistically.
I help Laynie to her feet, sitting her on the toilet before starting the water for her. “Will you be okay to stand?”
“Yeah. Thanks, M. I’ll call out if I need you,” she rasps.
“Okay. I’ll grab you some fresh clothes.”
Leaving the bathroom, I leave some clothes at the door. I find Delly waiting in the living room.
“Is she okay?”
Exhaling slowly, I sink back down on the couch. “Doesn’t look like it.” I look at the spaghetti she made and cringe. “Do you think it was the food?”
“With the way Laynie cooks, I doubt it. And I feel fine.”
“Yeah, I do too,” I murmur, but now I’ve been put off finishing my bowl. “I’ll start washing up. She’s just having a shower. I’m hoping it’ll make her feel better.”
“Do you want some help?”
I shake my head, carrying our plates to the kitchen. “I’ll be fine. But if Laynie yells out, you’ll have to help her.”
Laynie never calls out for help. She comes out in trackpants and a loose, oversized shirt with her hair tied up into a bun.
